CFHE Chapter 3

Transferring schools in senior year was like being mentally ill.

 

Fu Yuhan suddenly understood why they kept saying “last time”—today’s activity was essentially a farewell party for Wen Yu.

 

Of course, he didn’t care whether Wen Yu was mentally ill or not. He just felt suffocated at the thought of being classmates with him in the final year.

 

When humans face things they don’t want to face, they instinctively try to escape.

 

Fu Yuhan said: “Our school has eight classes.”

 

The implication being that he wouldn’t necessarily be in the same class as Wen Yu.

 

“Not being in the same class would be good too.” Yang Fan earnestly persuaded, “I always feel like you two might start fighting over any disagreement… Promise me you’ll get along well with him in the future, okay? You’re both my bros, I’m really worried.”

 

“I won’t actively cause trouble for him, as long as he doesn’t provoke me.” Fu Yuhan looked at him. “Is that okay?”

 

“Okay, okay, more than okay.” Yang Fan felt relieved.

 

Seeing his relaxed smile, Fu Yuhan felt he could occasionally tolerate Wen Yu’s punchable behavior.

 

But.

 

Yang Fan didn’t know where the core conflict between these two lay, so naturally he didn’t know that even though Wen Yu had previously promised him not to pick fights with Fu Yuhan, it didn’t mean they really wouldn’t end up clashing—

 

That very evening, another incident occurred.

 

Farewell activities don’t end easily. After leaving the arcade, they went to eat pickled fish, then went to a nearby KTV planning to sing until dawn.

 

Senior year students didn’t dare go too far—there would be no alcohol, but games were still on the table. They hadn’t sung many songs before Wen Yu picked up the dice and suggested Truth or Dare.

 

On a special day, basically whatever Wen Yu said went, with no one objecting. The “one-day little brother” who had been sent to buy water returned from outside to see the remaining people had already started playing.

 

Yang Fan had terrible luck with dice. Fu Yuhan, worried he’d suffer losses, put down the water and silently sat over.

 

Immediately after, he saw Wen Yu glance at him, seemingly with a smile hanging at the corner of his mouth.

 

The lighting in the KTV wasn’t great, half of Wen Yu’s face was in shadow. Fu Yuhan didn’t know what this smile originally meant, but to him it looked somewhat mocking.

 

About half a year ago, Wen Yu had once told him privately that he thought Fu Yuhan’s behavior of silently protecting Yang Fan was a bit like a little wife.

 

At the time, Fu Yuhan had returned with “likewise,” but Wen Yu shook his head and said lightly, “I’m different from you.”

 

They were both in unrequited love—who was more noble than whom?

 

Anyway, Fu Yuhan didn’t understand where all that pretentious air of his came from.

 

After Wen Yu finished laughing, he opened the dice cup: “Yang Fan lost.”

 

“Damn!” Yang Fan looked at everyone’s dice points. “I should have known not to call it—Bamboo Pole would definitely be dead!”

 

Bamboo Pole was sitting next to him and laughed wickedly upon hearing this: “You couldn’t hold back and had to call it yourself, can’t blame me.”

 

“Choose!” Chu Lei shouted, “Truth or dare!”

 

“Dare,” Yang Fan said.

 

“Why not truth?” Wen Yu looked curious.

 

“He’s been flirting with a goddess lately,” Chu Lei pointed at him and laughed. “He’s definitely afraid we’ll ask questions.”

 

Wen Yu raised an eyebrow and glanced toward Fu Yuhan, but found the other showed no reaction.

 

Already knew about it?

 

“Just dare, what’s the punishment?” Yang Fan quickly stopped this topic. “Let me say first, I refuse things like ‘go confess to someone in another private room’—that’s too disruptive.”

 

“Then go submit a confession to the goddess for Monday’s radio broadcast.”

 

“…Are you trying to kill me?”

 

“Forget it, we’re seniors now. Getting disciplinary action isn’t worth it.” Ball pulled out a small pack of half-eaten pocky from his backpack, looked around at the people in the room. “Let’s keep it small—you and… you and Brother Yu eat one pocky stick while we film it!”

 

“Why?”

 

“What for?”

 

The one who said “why” was Yang Fan, the one who said “what for” was Fu Yuhan, and the one who turned to look was Wen Yu.

 

The excessive reactions made the scene look somewhat comical. Ball was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing: “Those two are one thing, but Brother Han, why are you so shocked? We’re not asking you to sacrifice yourself.”

 

Fu Yuhan thought to himself that he’d rather be the one to “sacrifice.”

 

A flash of discomfort crossed his face. After a pause, he asked again: “Why with Wen Yu?”

 

“Because…” Ball looked a bit confused.

 

“Because they won’t see me after tomorrow, so of course they want to properly ‘torment’ me tonight, just like how we ‘torment’ our ‘little brother.'” Wen Yu laughingly picked up the conversation, lifting his chin. “Come on, ‘little brother,’ go turn on the lights so they can film properly.” He opened his arms toward Yang Fan. “Come on, Fan Fan, I’m ready.”

 

Fu Yuhan: “…”

 

Wen Yu’s actions effectively resolved the awkwardness caused by this suggestion. Yang Fan laughed and cursed a few times without a care, while the three people led by Chu Lei started whistling and pulling out their phones.

 

The whole world was having fun, only Fu Yuhan was in a low mood.

 

He walked to the control panel and slapped the switch as if venting his frustration.

 

The music stopped abruptly, and the private room’s ceiling light was turned on with a “snap.”

 

Fu Yuhan bit the soft flesh in his mouth, his four fingers curling and uncurling, wanting countless times to rush over and pull apart the people making a fuss.

 

But in the end, he just silently looked away.

 

When he gets to Third High… once he gets to Third High, he’ll have plenty of opportunities to deal with him.

 

–

 

The excitement fell asleep, the city gradually awakened.

 

Early the next morning, Third High’s school gates, which had been closed for two months, opened on time. At 6:15 AM, the middle-aged, pot-bellied Student Affairs Director Yang Cailiang stood punctually at the school entrance, his sparse, nearly bald scalp gleaming.

 

On the first official day of school, students always had issues, including but not limited to dyed hair, makeup, and not wearing school uniforms.

 

“Damn, Old Yang catching people with dyed hair is one thing, but he lectured me for five minutes just because my hair was slightly longer!” Sun Wenrui was still complaining loudly when he jumped into the classroom. “Why didn’t he say anything yesterday! Besides, Brother Fu’s hair is even longer than mine—”

 

As he spoke, he looked toward the back of the classroom where Fu Yuhan had his arms stretched out, head tilted to one side, catching up on sleep.

 

After Sun Wenrui finished speaking, he saw the person who could usually sleep until the world ended move, then prop himself up with his arm and actually get up.

 

Sun Wenrui: “…”

 

Ge Ran, sitting in the third row, clearly saw the earth-shattering expression on his face and couldn’t help but mock him: “Look, jumping around so early in the morning, you’ve awakened the great demon king.”

 

“I’m dead,” Sun Wenrui said.

 

He saw Fu Yuhan crook his finger at him.

 

“Go on,” Ge Ran chimed in. “The organization will remember to collect your corpse.”

 

Sun Wenrui walked over with cautious steps, looking back every three steps as he shuffled to Fu Yuhan’s side, saying with lowered brows and submissive eyes: “Master, if you have orders, please don’t hit my face.”

 

“…”

 

Fu Yuhan lifted his eyelids, his voice still carrying the muffled quality unique to just waking up: “Go find out something.”

 

The content was actually different from what he’d imagined, and Sun Wenrui immediately came alive: “What?”

 

“There might be a transfer student coming to our grade today,” Fu Yuhan’s brows were pressed down, his eyes full of impatience. “Go ask which class they’re transferring into.”

 

“Got it!” The feeling of surviving was incredibly refreshing. Sun Wenrui jumped three feet high and bounced out of the classroom.

 

In the early morning, everyone still looked sleep-deprived and not fully awake. The classroom was already quiet, and though Fu Yuhan’s voice wasn’t loud, everyone could hear him clearly.

 

“Transfer student? Really?”

 

“Transferring in senior year, are they crazy?”

 

“A repeater?”

 

“Repeaters can’t come to our school.”

 

“Fu Yuhan,” Xu Qianyi, sitting in the middle of the classroom, turned around and asked, “Where did you hear this?”

 

“With my ears.”

 

After Fu Yuhan finished speaking, he didn’t care about Xu Qianyi’s expression. He pulled out an A4-sized spiral notebook from his drawer, flipped to a new page, took out a wooden pencil from his pencil case, and began writing and drawing with his head down.

 

The classroom’s commotion seemed to have nothing to do with him.

 

“Some people have a good face but a temper like a dog,” Xu Qianyi rolled her eyes at his coldness. “I think that handsome guy from yesterday is ten thousand times better than you.”

 

Xu Qianyi was the one who had been queuing to help exchange tokens yesterday, and she had even asked Fu Yuhan about Wen Yu’s name.

 

Fu Yuhan admitted that when he looked in the direction Xu Qianyi pointed yesterday and saw Wen Yu standing there quietly watching people catch dolls, he did understand for a moment how eye-catching this person was.

 

 

But it was only for a moment.

 

“Then go chase after him.” Fu Yuhan graciously lifted his eyelids and shot her a cold glance. “The person coming today is him.”

 

“Holy shit?”

 

“Wasn’t he supposed to be First High’s school prince?”

 

“Is our school about to collect both of the city’s school princes?”

 

Quite a few people had gone to the arcade yesterday, and even more girls had seen Wen Yu. The classroom was momentarily in an uproar.

 

Xu Qianyi stood up and said with a smile: “Thanks, bro. I’m also going to the office to ask around.”

 

After she finished speaking, she walked out under everyone’s expectant gazes.

 

Fu Yuhan returned his gaze to the notebook in his hands, his long lashes lowered, shadows beneath his eyes.

 

He had finished the practice sketch and shifted his gaze to the blank space on the paper, silently writing two characters.

 

Wen Yu.

 

Then he drew an X over that name.

 

Xu Qianyi was Class Six’s “number one sister.”

 

The most beautiful face in the class, the most spirited personality in the class.

 

Good grades and knew how to have fun—she was popular with both teachers and classmates.

 

She came back quickly, bringing news that was great for the girls but terrible for Fu Yuhan.

 

“I heard he’s coming to our class. Excellent grades, countless competition awards and provincial merit student honors since childhood—his certificates could cover an entire room.” She repeated the homeroom teacher’s words.

 

“Where is he? Is he in the office?” asked a girl who hadn’t gone to the arcade yesterday. “I want to see just how handsome he is.”

 

“Not yet, I didn’t see him in the office anyway.” Xu Qianyi paused after speaking. “Hey, speaking of which, where did Sun Wenrui go? I didn’t see him in the office either.”

 

She wasn’t really concerned about Sun Wenrui’s whereabouts—it was just a casual question. The girls’ conversation quickly returned to the unseen transfer student.

 

Those noisy, chaotic discussions buzzed in Fu Yuhan’s ears. He grabbed his pen and drew a second X over Wen Yu’s name.

 

Not long after, he heard Sun Wenrui’s voice entering the classroom again, interrupting the girls’ excitement.

 

“Damn, this guy is really something. Came in a Maserati, wearing a First High uniform, stood at the school gate and all the freshmen were fucking staring at him.”

 

Sun Wenrui had originally looked displeased, but as soon as he entered the classroom he was surrounded by girls. When they heard the person had gone to the office, those girls chased after each other, all running to the office.

 

He stood there dazed for a long while, then returned to his seat in confusion: “Is being handsome really that great? Brother Fu, do you know him? What do you think this guy is thinking, transferring from First High to Third High in senior year? Isn’t that like taking off your pants to fart—completely unnecessary?”

 

Maserati.

 

First High uniform.

 

Third High’s entrance.

 

Three keywords combined together created an absolutely explosive effect.

 

In a certain sense, it was very fitting for Wen Yu’s personality.

 

Although he hadn’t exchanged many words with Wen Yu in total, for some reason Fu Yuhan felt this person was a peacock.

 

He gave a cold smile: “Sun Wenrui, do I look mentally ill to you?”

 

In the blazing summer heat, Sun Wenrui broke out in cold sweat from that smile.

 

“No… no…”

 

“So like you, I don’t understand the thoughts of mentally ill people,” Fu Yuhan closed his sketchbook, his voice extremely cold. “I generally choose to eliminate them.”

 

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