The night gradually stained the surrounding air, concealing Wen Yu’s face that was black as the bottom of a pot.
He sat with a dark expression, took a sip of the iced americano the driver had brought along, and suspected it was made with aged vinegar.
Otherwise why did he find it so sour?
Thinking about it, he felt a bit strange.
If he was like this, how had Fu Yuhan gotten through these years?
Was he a masochist?
“Just choose me,” he muttered quietly, “what’s wrong with me…”
He could also take him in when he was vulnerable.
…It was just that Yang Fan came first.
“What?” The driver turned his head slightly, “What did you say? I didn’t hear clearly… do you need to buy something on the way?”
“No,” Wen Yu tugged at the corner of his mouth, “nothing, keep driving.”
After saying this, he closed his eyes and sighed softly, silently repeating “I can’t be like this, my mindset is too poor” three times in his heart.
He couldn’t keep thinking about these things. He had to get through tonight’s dinner first. Eating with Wen Ziming wasn’t as comfortable as being with Fu Yuhan—he had to find that former “model student” again.
The meeting place was at a century-old restaurant in the city. When Wen Yu arrived, Wen Ziming and Fang Wanjing were already seated inside.
The private room was small but exquisite. Wen Yu knocked and entered, looked around, and chose to sit across from Fang Wanjing, the farthest spot from Wen Ziming.
“Dad,” he nodded in greeting, “Mom.”
“You’re here,” Fang Wanjing smiled at him gently and showed him the menu and order slip, “See if there’s anything else you want to eat, add it yourself.”
When eating with these two, Wen Yu didn’t care what he ate at all. However, just as he was about to decline, he suddenly saw Wen Ziming frown: “There’s already enough food.”
“I wasn’t sure what the child wanted to eat,” Fang Wanjing persuaded quietly, “what’s wrong with ordering more?”
“Then you should have asked what he wanted to eat earlier, not waste food now.”
“We’re not short of that money…”
“Mom,” Wen Yu looked up and interrupted them, smiling lightly, “It’s fine, I’m not picky about food.”
Wen Ziming didn’t allow him to be picky about food, so here he wouldn’t be picky.
Wen Ziming had his own set of theories that Wen Yu had heard until his ears were calloused. If he really let them talk at length, they wouldn’t need to eat dinner today.
On the way here, Wen Yu had tried to concentrate, but his mind kept wandering to where Fu Yuhan and Yang Fan had gone, what they were eating. His attention was scattered, and he was afraid he couldn’t put on a good act in front of Wen Ziming tonight. He just wanted to eat quickly and leave early.
Because of “no talking while eating, no talking while sleeping,” Wen Ziming wouldn’t talk much to him during meals.
As usual, Wen Ziming first asked about his recent academic situation. Wen Yu answered each question, figuring he hadn’t missed anything. This restaurant served food quite quickly, and once the dishes arrived, Wen Ziming didn’t speak much.
Wen Yu was still somewhat distracted. When he picked up his chopsticks, he knocked against the bowl rim, making a crisp sound.
Wen Ziming glanced at him.
Instinctively, Wen Yu gripped his chopsticks tighter, adjusted the position of his bowl and chopsticks, and quietly began eating, pretending everything was normal. However, when he wanted to serve himself some soup midway through, because of his phone vibrating in his pocket, he almost couldn’t hold the soup spoon.
Wen Ziming put down his chopsticks: “What’s wrong with you today? You’re very off.”
Wen Yu put down the soup spoon and bowl, finding himself an excuse: “I was thinking about problems… I have a competition tomorrow.”
“Why didn’t you mention the competition?” Wen Ziming asked, “Which subject?”
“Chemistry.”
“What level award did you get last year?”
“Provincial second place.” Wen Yu paused, trying to explain, “I was sick on the exam day.”
“Excuses.” Wen Ziming stared at him, “If you exercise properly regularly, how could you get sick? In that case, getting at least a national second place this year shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
Wen Yu pressed his lips together and didn’t respond.
Both were telling him to do well on the exam, but Fu Yuhan’s “having spent the time, wouldn’t it be a loss not to win an award” sounded more pleasant to his ears.
Actually, he hadn’t prepared much. He wasn’t too worried about the college entrance exam, and competitions were optional for him. This was only about the face of the school, teachers, and Wen Ziming.
“Xiao Yu exercises regularly, right? I heard from the auntie that he goes to the gym regularly.” Fang Wanjing gently mediated, “Ziming, don’t be too harsh. People do get sick… who’s made of iron? Right, Xiao Yu?”
She turned her head.
Wen Yu was thinking about Fu Yuhan and didn’t pay attention to what she said for a moment. Wen Ziming immediately got angry: “I’m asking you a question!”
“…Right.” Wen Yu answered casually.
“So can you get a national second place?”
The stern and cold voice drilled into his ears. Wen Yu lowered his eyes: “I’ll do my best.”
“So uncertain, did you not prepare properly? Look at you, how many times have I told you…”
“Alright, alright, don’t scold the child, we still need to eat.” Fang Wanjing said hurriedly, “Don’t you have other things to talk about? Stop talking about exams.”
“…I almost forgot because he made me angry.” Wen Ziming calmed down and said, “How about this, Xiao Yu, go learn to drive.”
Wen Yu lifted his eyelids: “You’re going to give me a car?”
“Get your driver’s license first.”
“Oh,” Wen Yu had nothing against this kind of thing, “will you contact a driving instructor for me?”
“I’ll have the driver follow up with you.”
“Fine.” Wen Yu lowered his head again.
“I can give you a car, but you need to study hard and show me presentable grades. Tomorrow’s competition…”
When Wen Ziming was lecturing him, if he argued back, it would only make it longer. Usually Wen Yu just listened mindlessly, in one ear and out the other.
Because Fang Wanjing’s intervention wouldn’t work at times like this, it was better to wait for him to finish.
He was just getting a bit hungry.
Wen Yu thought Fu Yuhan and Yang Fan had probably started eating long ago.
“…How about this, you go home tonight and let your mom supervise your review properly.” After giving his son more than ten minutes of “ideological education,” Wen Ziming concluded.
Wen Yu suddenly looked up: “Go home…? Which home?”
“What other home is there?” Wen Ziming asked back, “You call that temporary residence ‘home’?”
“…” Wen Yu suddenly stood up.
He was already eighteen, an adult, quite tall. When he stood up, he could almost look down on his father.
This height difference naturally made Wen Ziming uncomfortable, and he instinctively frowned: “What are you standing up for? Haven’t I told you not to leave your seat casually before finishing your meal?”
“I… need to use the bathroom.” Wen Yu gritted his teeth and squeezed out these words, his hands clenched into fists under the table, “I want to go to the restroom.”
“Go quickly.” Fang Wanjing gave him a meaningful look.
Seeing that Wen Ziming said nothing, Wen Yu turned and left.
He knew what would happen if he argued back—endless quarrels, and then everything he currently had would be taken away by Wen Ziming. Transferring to Third High was his own request because it was farther from Wen Ziming, so if he opposed his father, perhaps not only would that apartment be taken away, but even his school enrollment would be forcibly transferred back or to somewhere else.
Wen Ziming knew his son hated him, and he didn’t care.
What he cared about was whether his son was excellent, whether he was obedient, and whether he could follow his personal standards in daily actions.
That kind of… irritation that had disappeared due to his gradually unrestrained life at Third High recently came surging back once again.
Wen Yu suddenly wanted to run away.
Run out of here, go see Fu Yuhan and Yang Fan, maybe sit down and have dinner with them while struggling with himself.
He really wanted to see Fu Yuhan, right now. If Fu Yuhan were here, he could be calmer, could convince himself not to oppose Wen Ziming.
Although he really wanted to, he couldn’t afford the price.
He was only eighteen, an age where he was an adult but had nothing.
Wen Yu slipped into the bathroom and took out his phone from his pocket.
The vibration earlier was just a weather forecast notification—rain tomorrow, temperature drop, remember to add clothing.
Not knowing whether to feel depressed or say “as expected,” this wasn’t a message from Fu Yuhan. Wen Yu thought for a moment and dialed the number.
After ringing for about half a minute, the call was answered: “Hello?”
“Hello?” Wen Yu coughed lightly, “Xiao Han, where are you?”
“Me? Red Clay Kitchen.” Fu Yuhan was surrounded by noisy sounds. He lowered his head under the table, “Do you need something? Aren’t you having dinner with your family?”
“I… it’s nothing, just calling.” Wen Yu’s voice was muffled, “What are you going to do later?”
“After eating, I’m going to the mall with Yang Fan. He said he wants to pick a Singles’ Day gift for Zhao Tong and asked me to help him choose.”
“…”
“Mm?”
“Are you an idiot?” Wen Yu suddenly couldn’t hold back his words. He growled quietly into the phone, “Why don’t you punch him and tell him you like him?”
Fu Yuhan was stunned: “…What’s wrong with you?”
“Are you happy torturing yourself like this, keeping everything bottled up?” Wen Yu said, “You clearly like him, yet you’re helping your rival pick gifts.”
“I actually…” Yang Fan was right beside him, so Fu Yuhan couldn’t speak in detail. He felt Wen Yu’s attitude was strange, like he was in a bad mood, “It’s fine, it’s nothing. What about you…”
“…Never mind.” Wen Yu seemed to suddenly deflate, “If you’re going to the mall later, you’re skipping evening self-study again, right?”
“I was just about to call Ge Ran…” Fu Yuhan said, “How about you ask for leave for me?”
Wen Yu was silent for three seconds, then said: “Fine.”
After saying this, he hung up.
Fu Yuhan stared at his phone for a while.
“What’s wrong?” Yang Fan leaned over, “What did Yu-ge say?”
“I don’t know…” Fu Yuhan shook his head, his brow slightly furrowed, “I think his mood is off. Did he fight with his parents?”
Yang Fan had personally witnessed the “family wars” at the Fu household. At the mention of fighting, he imagined terrifying scenes and his eyes widened: “Didn’t he say?”
“No.”
“Then try calling back?” Yang Fan said, “Don’t let anything happen… cough cough.”
Fu Yuhan thought that made sense and pressed redial.
However, what came through the phone was “The number you have dialed is turned off.”
“He turned off his phone.” Fu Yuhan blinked.
“Then let’s not go to the mall, let’s go back to find him?” Yang Fan said, “Wait… cough, has he come back from dinner?”
Fu Yuhan thought for a moment, took out a piece of paper from his backpack, and wrote down a series of brand names and product names.
“These are the suitable gifts I can think of… you can go look yourself?” Fu Yuhan said, “I’ll go to school for evening self-study later. Generally speaking… Yu-ge wouldn’t skip class. I’ll ask then.”
“Okay.” Yang Fan nodded.
“Sorry, I promised to accompany you shopping.”
“Hey, what’s the big deal.” Yang Fan waved his hand indifferently, “I, cough cough cough, Yu-ge is my friend too. Call me anytime if you need help.”
“Mm.”
Fu Yuhan responded casually, holding his phone and looking at the call record of less than two minutes, his slightly furrowed brow never relaxing.
##
(advanced chapters available on kofi)
