LCFM Chapter 9

“Little Flying Man?” The blond boy froze.

“That would be me.” Jiang Xinghuai took the bandages from Fu Yan and wrapped them around his knees, layer by layer.

“You’re insane!” The blond boy stood up from the ground and rushed forward. “Do you think you’re Spider-Man? Come on! Are you out of your mind? Are you even an adult yet?”

“Just about ten more days or so,” Jiang Xinghuai replied with a smile.

“You win.” The blond boy raised his middle finger.

“I remember one time you were performing a handstand on the edge and doing backflips on the rooftop of the school building?” Geng Manhong suddenly spoke.

“That’s called parkour,” Jiang Xinghuai explained.

“That’s called asking for trouble,” Geng Manhong said, clearly annoyed.

Jiang Xinghuai shrugged and looked at Fu Yan, who had been silent the whole time, smiling proudly: “I can jump across.”

“Alright.” Fu Yan crouched down, took the bandages from his hands, and carefully wrapped them around, layer by layer. “Be careful with your legs.”

“Old Geng, go grab that rope over there and check it out,” Jiang Xinghuai said.

“That rope was used by our building’s physics teacher before, when he had to hang from the rooftop down to the sixth floor to fix the air conditioner,” Geng Manhong said as he handed it over. “It’s a safety rope with a half-body harness.”

“That’s great,” Jiang Xinghuai said with a relieved smile.

“But there’s only one half-body harness,” Geng Manhong added. “You’ll have to go one at a time.”

After the group planned where to secure the ropes and confirmed the order, it only took them two minutes.

The sky had already turned completely dark. All that could be heard was the direction from which the wind was blowing.

Jiang Xinghuai stood at the edge of the rooftop, spread his hands, and grabbed a handful of wind. He began to slowly step backward until he reached the other side of the rooftop.

The entire rooftop served as his running start.

Fu Yan turned on his phone’s flashlight, raised it, and aimed it at the path hidden in the thick fog.

“Go, little man.” Geng Manhong also raised his phone.

“Be careful, minor,” The blond boy lifted his phone, too, smiling for the first time.

“Please call me…” Jiang Xinghuai bent his waist, flexed his legs, dashed forward, and followed the streak of light that cut through the darkness. He stepped off the rooftop, stepping into the wind, and spread his arms, then flew out.

“—Little Flying Man!” His voice came through the wind.

Then came a dull thud as he landed.

Safe arrival!

Everyone standing at the edge of this building breathed a sigh of relief.

But on the other side, the voice Jiang Xinghuai had promised to use to signal his safety still hadn’t come.

“Jiang Xinghuai!” Fu Yan shouted.

No response.

“Jiang Xinghuai! Speak!” Fu Yan frowned tightly, his voice almost a roar.

The darkness over there remained completely silent.

“I’ll go!” The blond boy stepped forward and shouted, “Little Flying Man!”

“Hey!” Jiang Xinghuai’s voice came back.

Fu Yan quietly exhaled in relief.

“This kid… what time is it, and he’s still joking around,” Geng Manhong muttered with a laugh, also letting out a breath.

“Throw the rope over!” Jiang Xinghuai, drenched in sweat, shouted again from the ground.

He didn’t stand up.

The rope tied to a stone sliced through the wind and landed at his feet.

Jiang Xinghuai gasped for air, trying to ease the sharp pain in his knees. His legs were trembling.

“Right now!” He touched his leg—wet and sticky, probably blood. He gritted his teeth and pressed his knees, confirming that there were no fractures.

No fracture—good. Jiang Xinghuai breathed a sigh of relief. Then, after several attempts, he barely managed to stand on one leg.

He found a sturdy corner, tied the rope tight, pulled on it a few times, and immediately shouted, “The rope’s secured here! Hurry over!”

“The first one is Teacher Geng! Ready to catch!” Fu Yan’s voice came through.

“No need!” Geng Manhong shouted, charging through the air, “Move aside! Don’t get hit!”

“I already moved aside!” Jiang Xinghuai shouted while quickly hopping to the edge of the rooftop on one leg.

“I’m coming, ahhhh!” Geng Manhong screamed as he slammed onto the rooftop edge.

Jiang Xinghuai dragged him up, quickly untied the safety gear strapped to him, then slid along the rope. “Next!”

The blond boy: “You—”

Fu Yan caught the safety gear sliding over the rope and handed it to him. “Get on.”

“I won’t be polite,” The blond boy said, taking it and putting it on.

Fu Yan gave him a push from behind, and the blond boy slid out. The weightlessness made him immediately scream, “Ahhhh! Hurry over—”

Suddenly, the rooftop fell silent. Such extreme quiet usually signaled disaster.

“Crack!” A crisp, forceful sound.

Fu Yan turned around.

It was the sound of a water jar breaking. The iron door couldn’t hold.

The first infected leaped over the shards of broken porcelain on the ground. Fu Yan didn’t have time to put on his harness.

“Blond made it! Fu Yan!” Jiang Xinghuai shouted at the top of his lungs. “Fu Yan!”

Jiang Xinghuai stood on this rooftop, craning his neck, looking toward the other side, which was too dark to see clearly.

Half a minute passed. Fu Yan didn’t respond. Only faint sounds of collision came from the other rooftop.

“Something might have happened to Fu Yan over there,” Jiang Xinghuai panicked, pressing on his knees as he straightened up. “I’m going over.”

“No! It’s too dangerous!” Geng Manhong grabbed him, “Listen to me—”

“Don’t pull me!” Jiang Xinghuai struggled desperately.

“Stand still.” Fu Yan’s voice suddenly rang out.

Jiang Xinghuai’s body stiffened, and he hurried to the edge of the rooftop. Fu Yan had just climbed up and hadn’t even had time to undo his harness when Jiang Xinghuai fell into his arms.

“You scared me to death.” Jiang Xinghuai hugged him tightly, his hands trembling.

“Are your legs okay?” Fu Yan held him around the back, patting gently.

“They’re… in trouble…” Jiang Xinghuai whispered softly, unable to hide a hint of spoiled dependence.

“Let me see.” Fu Yan said, about to squat down.

“Wait—” Jiang Xinghuai glanced toward the darkness on the other side of the rooftop, puzzled. “What’s that sound?”

Fu Yan froze for a moment and tilted his head to listen.

It was a sound cutting through the wind, followed a second later by a dull crash of something hitting the ground.

Thud—thud—thud—

Fu Yan realized immediately and instinctively covered Jiang Xinghuai’s ears.

“How….” Jiang Xinghuai hadn’t finished his question when realization hit him.

Those were the infected coming from the other side of the rooftop, leaping down one after another.

A day ago, these infected people had been living. Maybe just an hour earlier, they were still talking, still breathing.

Jiang Xinghuai began to stiffen, starting to question the decision he had made today.

This world had already changed. If saving someone meant risking his own life or even the lives of others, should he still cling to the rules that once belonged to his old world?

“What are you looking at! Everyone, come on up!” The blond boy, out of breath, rushed onto the rooftop. “Hurry! I found an empty apartment just below. It’s been cleared out, no one inside. I didn’t dare go further down, too unsafe. So hurry and get down.”

“Stop thinking about it.” Fu Yan took his hand and pulled him down from the rooftop.

The hallway was dark. The blond boy held up his phone and led the way, while Teacher Geng followed beside him, muttering something under his breath. The blond boy looked impatient but kept glancing back to warn the chubby teacher to watch out for debris.

Jiang Xinghuai remained silent.

“You’re not wrong. The ones at fault are them,” Fu Yan said, squeezing his hand, suddenly speaking. “Whether or not it’s a virus outbreak, they would always be that kind of people. It has nothing to do with anyone else. But you, you’re different.”

“What’s different about me?” Jiang Xinghuai gave a bitter smile. “Especially handsome?”

“Your heart is warm.” Fu Yan gently patted his chest.

“Whose heart is cold then?” The blond boy, walking ahead, sneered sarcastically.

“The world kissed me with pain, yet I respond with song!” Geng Manhong suddenly recited a line of poetry.

Jiang Xinghuai: “……”

Fu Yan: “…………”

The blond boy: “………………”

“Does he teach Chinese at your school?” The blond boy whispered.

“Math,” Jiang Xinghuai whispered back. “But he really likes to recite poetry during math class.”

“A hobby?” The blond boy asked.

“Pretentious.” Jiang Xinghuai replied.

“Couldn’t agree more.”The blond boy nodded.

“I heard that!” Geng Manhong, already at the front pushing open the door, glared at them.

The apartment was small and messy, probably a rental, the tenants having moved out long ago. There was no bed, only a mattress placed in the living room, but it had a large hole in the middle.

The only seating was a cloth sofa pressed against the wall.

“Quick, let’s see the leg.” Geng Manhong kicked aside the clutter on the sofa, urging Jiang Xinghuai to move over.

Fu Yan helped him sit on the sofa and moved a small stool under his leg for support.

He pulled a candle out of his backpack and lit it.

“Ah! So much blood!” Geng Manhong exclaimed in shock.

Jiang Xinghuai wore slim-fit jeans, already torn at the knees. The bandages tied there were completely soaked red.

Fu Yan slowly pulled the bandages away and carefully used scissors to cut open the jeans.

The knee was already swollen, the bone protruding frighteningly. But the more serious issue was a gash along the side of the knee, continuously spurting blood.

“Holy—” The blond boy’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“This will need stitches.” Fu Yan’s expression darkened.

“Ah?” Jiang Xinghuai froze.

“Take some anti-inflammatory medicine first.” Fu Yan dug into his bag and handed it over.

Jiang Xinghuai took it and tilted his head back to swallow it.

“I’ll start disinfecting now.” Fu Yan held the bottle of alcohol, watching him with concern.

“It’s fine, pour it. I’m already numb from the pain.” Jiang Xinghuai shrugged casually, but his hands gripped the sofa beneath him.

“Teacher Geng, please hold him,” Fu Yan said.

“No need, I’m fine.” Jiang Xinghuai waved his hand boldly.

Fu Yan tentatively dipped a cotton swab in alcohol and applied it.

Jiang Xinghuai jerked violently: “Ah! No! It hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts—”

Geng Manhong sighed and held him.

“All done.” After Fu Yan had finished the basic treatment of Jiang Xinghuai’s wound, five minutes had passed.

Jiang Xinghuai was drenched in sweat from the pain, completely drained of strength, and, in a spoiled tone, complained, “This lousy sofa is so hard!”

“I’ll hold you.” Fu Yan had him lean against himself and carefully wiped the sweat from his head with a handkerchief.

Jiang Xinghuai whimpered, “I don’t want stitches.”

“The wound is too large. It could get infected.” Fu Yan frowned, ignoring his words, and looked at the other two in the room. “We have to go to a hospital.”

“The nearest one, the First People’s Hospital, is over on Linyang Avenue. It’s too far,” Geng Manhong said.

“We have to have a car.” Geng Manhong quickly concluded.

“I have a car,” The blond boy said immediately. “A second-hand van.”

“Where?” Fu Yan asked.

“Maybe… on the street next door…” The blond boy trailed off, suddenly remembering something, his expression turning strange.

“Your car isn’t… stolen, is it?” Jiang Xinghuai asked skeptically.

“Damn! I saved up to buy that myself!” The blond boy snorted. “Drive it if you want, don’t if you don’t.”

“Exact location.” Fu Yan spoke.

“Alright then…” The blond boy hesitated a moment. “In front of the Sweet Donut bakery.”

“I deliver bread as a side job,” The blond boy added, his face stiff with shy embarrassment.

“Robbing the homepage doesn’t make much money. You can only develop a side hustle.” Jiang Xinghuai clapped his hands. “So this is making money to support your dreams? That’s ambitious!”

“What the hell do you mean!” The blond boy snapped. “Even a thug has dignity, okay!”

“When did I start carrying math tests around?” Geng Manhong pulled two crumpled test papers from his waistband. “Oh! What a coincidence—exactly two.”

“Uncle, my leg really hurts.” Jiang Xinghuai quickly turned his head and buried it in Fu Yan’s arms.

“My lungs hurt, I’m going to have a smoke.” The blond boy turned and started walking away.

“Two little brats,” Geng Manhong sneered, also turning to go. “I’ll see if there’s any water.”

The living room suddenly grew quiet, the weak candlelight flickering.

“Uncle…” Jiang Xinghuai looked up at him.

“Hm?” Fu Yan looked down. “Does your leg hurt?”

“I’m hungry,” Jiang Xinghuai said.

Fu Yan took out the last bag of biscuits, opened it, and handed it to him.

“You eat, too.” Jiang Xinghuai broke half off and held it to his mouth.

“You little kid.” Fu Yan smiled.

Jiang Xinghuai smiled, too, but then suddenly thought of his father.

Fu Yan’s embrace felt a little like the ‘fatherly’ embrace he had imagined as a child.

Solid, warm, safe.

“Uncle.” Jiang Xinghuai lowered his head slightly, a bit embarrassed.

“Mm,” Fu Yan replied.

“I wish you were my dad.” Jiang Xinghuai said softly.

“What?” Fu Yan didn’t catch it.

“Ah, I mean it.” Jiang Xinghuai pressed closer to him, thinking he hadn’t heard and was too embarrassed to say it again, so he could only express it subtly and quickly: “I really like you.”

Fu Yan heard this clearly.

In the next moment, the hand Fu Yan had been resting on his waist tightened, and he said nothing more.

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