CFHE Chapter 39.3

“Hehe, thanks.” Yang Fan chuckled. “Then come early! I want you to draw a picture of us two as a memento.”

 

“…Mm.”

 

His ears suddenly buzzed without warning. Fu Yuhan hung up the phone and for a moment couldn’t hear his own voice.

 

He had long foreseen this day would come, so he wasn’t too surprised.

 

Yang Fan had been chasing his goddess for at least half a year.

 

He was a straight guy, thoroughly so, completely unaware that his two closest “bros” both had different feelings for him.

 

“Fu Yuhan? Fu Yuhan?”

 

The teacher called him dozens of times until he slapped his shoulder, and only then did Fu Yuhan come to his senses. “What are you thinking about?”

 

Fu Yuhan: “No-nothing… what’s wrong?”

 

“It’s your turn.” The teacher said. “Get up, I’ll correct your drawing.”

 

“Okay, th-thank you, teacher.” Fu Yuhan hurriedly stood up and gave the drawing board to the teacher.

 

The most essential part of a class’s tuition was the time spent correcting and explaining drawings, but Fu Yuhan couldn’t concentrate at all that day.

 

His phone clearly vibrated several times in his pocket, but Fu Yuhan didn’t dare take it out to look.

 

He was suddenly very afraid that Yang Fan would call again to tell him something, because right now he might not be able to pretend to be calm and answer any of his questions.

 

Fu Yuhan was third from last. By the time his drawing was corrected, only a few people were left in the studio.

 

The liveliness suddenly vanished, and the studio became abruptly quiet. He forced himself to concentrate and pack up his things.

 

The rain had gotten heavier at some point. Fu Yuhan only realized when he reached the door that his umbrella had been taken by mistake and was nowhere to be found.

 

What was that saying again?

 

When you’re down on your luck, even drinking cold water gets stuck in your teeth. Fu Yuhan was experiencing this firsthand.

 

–

 

When Wen Yu received Yang Fan’s call, he was stunned for a moment, then quickly smiled: “Then congratulations, your wish came true.”

 

“How can your lines be exactly the same as Xiao Han’s?” Yang Fan joked with him. “I suggest you two get married on the spot.”

 

“That won’t work. We’ve been fighting for so many years—if we suddenly got married, I’m afraid we’d scare you to death.”

 

Yang Fan was laughing heartily on the other end.

 

“Hey wait, you already told him?” Wen Yu suddenly realized something.

 

“Ah, he just called to say he’d be late, so I mentioned it.” Yang Fan asked, “Do you know where his class is? Why don’t you go pick him up? It’s raining today, and the roads are jammed like hell. I don’t want to wait for you two separately!”

 

“I know.” Wen Yu buttoned his last button and walked to the window to look out.

 

Thunder and lightning flashed outside, and the rain was much heavier than in the morning.

 

“Then I’ll go take a look,” he said. “I was just planning to go out anyway.”

 

“Okay.” The birthday boy called out, “Hurry up! I’m treating and still have to wait for you two late kings!”

 

“Got it.” Wen Yu didn’t even realize he sighed after hanging up.

 

Fortunately, he had called a car in advance, otherwise he definitely wouldn’t have been able to hail a taxi in the torrential downpour when going downstairs.

 

Fu Yuhan had never told him where that Normal University art teacher’s house was, but Wen Yu, out of some psychology he didn’t quite understand himself, had asked Old Four for it.

 

Old Four didn’t suspect anything and sent it directly. Wen Yu had kept it all along.

 

The place wasn’t far—normally a five-minute drive, but today it took ten minutes.

 

6:32 PM, Wen Yu asked the driver to wait for him, opened his umbrella and quickly walked into the residential complex.

 

Three minutes later, he ran into someone who had just walked from under the corridor into the pouring rain.

 

This person was getting soaked but still hugging his bag, head down and hunched over, trying to protect his backpack from the downpour. Wen Yu frowned, quickly caught up, grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the nearest apartment building.

 

“What are you… Wen Yu?”

 

“It’s me.” Wen Yu closed his umbrella, put his hands in his pockets, and looked up and down at the completely soaked person. “What are you planning to do? Having suicidal thoughts after being heartbroken?”

 

“…” Fu Yuhan curved his lips slightly. “So you know too.”

 

“He caught his goddess and is eager to announce it to the world—his mood is understandable.” Wen Yu said, taking out a pack of tissues and handing them over. “I thought you had anticipated this—wipe yourself off.”

 

“I did anticipate it, I’m not very surprised.” Fu Yuhan took the tissues but didn’t use them on himself, instead wiping the backpack in his arms first. “But…”

 

But saying he wasn’t sad would be impossible.

 

Fu Yuhan didn’t say the rest, but someone as perceptive as Wen Yu could read the unfinished sentence from his eyes and brows at a glance.

 

He looked at him for a while, then suddenly said: “Maybe you shouldn’t go today.”

 

Fu Yuhan was stunned: “How could that work?”

 

“Look at yourself now. Can you keep up the act in front of Yang Fan?” Wen Yu said mockingly. “He’ll be in high spirits from his good fortune, but you’ll be wearing a long face at his birthday banquet slash girlfriend introduction party. Will you still be friends?”

 

Fu Yuhan: “…”

 

He lowered his head, wiping the water droplets off his bag.

 

The backpack’s surface was completely wet, but the inside was still okay. Although a bit damp, the wrapped gift was still dry.

 

Fu Yuhan didn’t want it to be ruined, so he found a dry tissue to cushion it and placed the gift box on the apartment building steps.

 

“I still have to go. Not going would be more problematic.” Fu Yuhan kept his gaze down, thinking for a long time before saying softly, “Let me adjust for a while… Although I can’t pretend as well as you, I can still… adjust myself.”

 

Wen Yu didn’t speak.

 

He looked at him with heavy eyes for a long while before saying: “Are you going with wet clothes like this?”

 

“There’s nowhere to change clothes now.” Fu Yuhan kept his head down. “I don’t want to be too late.”

 

“Do you think it’s worth it?”

 

“What’s there to be worth it or not?” Fu Yuhan smiled self-mockingly. “I’m used to it—aren’t you the same?”

 

Wen Yu thought to himself that he really wasn’t.

 

“Then let’s go together. I called a car, it’s waiting outside.” He said. “There’s a mall next to that hotel. Go buy some clothes to change into.”

 

Fu Yuhan glanced at him: “The clothes there are expensive.”

 

“Consider it my gift to you.” Wen Yu glanced at him. “A heartbreak gift.”

 

“…”

 

If Fu Yuhan had any energy, he would definitely curse “psycho” right now.

 

Fellow heartbroken souls under the same sky, why torment each other so urgently?

 

Does mutual harm really make you happy? Fu Yuhan didn’t know about Wen Yu, but he certainly wasn’t.

 

Unfortunately, he didn’t want to say a word right now. Language had suddenly become something that required all his strength to accomplish, and Fu Yuhan was tortured to the point of exhaustion, with no strength left.

 

He rewrapped the birthday gift with tissues and his backpack, silently followed behind Wen Yu, came to the complex entrance and got in the car.

 

The roads were indeed jammed. The two sat in relative silence in the cramped back seat space.

 

Wen Yu kept looking out the window.

 

Midway, Fu Yuhan turned to glance at him and asked curiously: “Aren’t you sad?”

 

“Not as sad as you.” Wen Yu didn’t look at him.

 

Fu Yuhan thought to himself that of course it was—Wen Yu had only known Yang Fan for just over two years, so their relationship definitely wasn’t as deep as his with Yang Fan.

 

How ridiculous that he had always wanted to prove this point before, but only got to prove it after being heartbroken.

 

Today’s traffic was as terrible as Fu Yuhan’s mood.

 

The car stopped and started, taking forty minutes to reach the mall. Wen Yu opened his umbrella and led the completely dejected Fu Yuhan straight to the fourth floor men’s section, found a sports brand, and blindly picked out a sports outfit.

 

After Wen Yu paid, he threw a sports outfit plus a long-sleeved base layer T-shirt into Fu Yuhan’s arms, lifted his chin and pointed toward the restroom: “Over there.”

 

Fu Yuhan held the clothes: “I suddenly don’t want to go.”

 

“Fine,” Wen Yu said, “then let’s go back.”

 

“…”

 

“Forget it,” Fu Yuhan turned around, “I’ll change clothes after all.”

 

“Made up your mind?” Wen Yu followed behind him.

 

“It’s not like I never thought this day would come.” Fu Yuhan sighed. “I already knew I’d die miserably. What’s one more night… just endure it and it’ll pass.”

 

Wen Yu tilted his head and stopped walking.

 

Fu Yuhan didn’t notice his movement and kept walking forward.

 

His figure was indeed upright. The wet clothes clinging to his body actually emphasized this silhouette even more.

 

Wen Yu stared at his clearly defined back for a full minute, until Fu Yuhan realized no one was behind him and turned around to call: “What are you doing?”

 

“Nothing.” Wen Yu quickly caught up. “Are you going home tonight?”

 

“Why?”

 

“I have something I want to tell you,” Wen Yu turned his head to ask his opinion, “come to my place after it ends?”

 

“??” Fu Yuhan looked at him suspiciously. “What can’t you say now?”

 

“I haven’t thought it through,” he answered, “you’ll have to wait for me to organize my words.”

 

“…” Fu Yuhan nodded. “Alright then.”

 

He went to the restroom to change clothes, stuffing the wet clothes he took off into his backpack.

 

The mall gave him a bag for the clothes purchase. He stuffed the bag and clothes all together, holding the still-dry gift in his hand.

 

Wen Yu thought he was going to rush to the event, but unexpectedly Fu Yuhan went into the mall after going down two floors.

 

“Where are you going?” Wen Yu called out to him. “Flower Banquet isn’t this way.”

 

“No, I need to buy something.” Fu Yuhan kept his eyes down. “Yang Fan said to draw a picture of him and his goddess… the paper and pens I brought got wet, I need to buy another set.”

 

“…”

 

Wen Yu’s eyebrows shot up high. He grabbed his arm and pulled him back, forcing him to turn around.

 

Their eyes met.

 

Wen Yu asked word by word: “Are you crazy?”

 

“No.” Fu Yuhan looked at him and pulled his arm back. “My heartbreak is my own business. Yang Fan didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“…” Wen Yu tugged at his lips and nodded. “…Fine.”

 

Whether he was speechless or what, Wen Yu didn’t express any more opinions and followed behind Fu Yuhan.

 

The mall didn’t sell proper sketch paper, but Fu Yuhan had only planned to buy some decent white paper anyway.

 

Actually, proper sketch paper had a rough surface to help pencil graphite spread for shadows, but it wasn’t really suitable for gifts. Fu Yuhan walked around and picked out a blank notebook and black oil pen before preparing to go downstairs to the hotel.

 

When leaving the mall, his expression had returned to normal.

 

Wen Yu thought he was fine now.

 

However, when they got on the hotel elevator and reached the tightly closed private room door, Fu Yuhan suddenly took a breath, turned around, his voice trembling: “Do I look normal?”

 

“…” Wen Yu glanced at him and said softly, “You’ll be normal if you stop shaking.”

 

“Okay.” Fu Yuhan nodded and yanked open the private room door.

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)