Fu Yuhan: “…”
He walked over speechlessly.
Fu Yuhan had never seen Wen Yu lose his temper before. Seeing it for the first time today, he suspected this person had some split personality disorder.
What kind of weird address was “our Brother Fu”?
“Tone it down.” Fu Yuhan patted Wen Yu’s wrist. “Why are you so angry?”
After speaking, his cold gaze swept from Qian Kaile’s face across the people behind him, then back to Qian Kaile’s face, saying softly: “I told you this morning that if you came again I’d break your third leg, right? Think I was just talking? I’ll give you three seconds—either disappear from here immediately, or I’ll hit exactly there, hit until you all get lost. I’m not joking.”
“Don’t look at Wen Yu, he needs to focus on college entrance exams, but I’m different. I don’t care about getting disciplinary action, understand?”
“Three—”
Qian Kaile’s expression changed. Wen Yu suddenly released his wrist and looked sideways at Fu Yuhan.
Fu Yuhan had one hand in his pocket, the other showing “three” fingers slowly retracting one finger.
“Two—”
The two people behind Qian Kaile tugged at his clothes, their faces also not looking good.
Fu Yuhan was quite capable of following through. If he really hit there, they were all guys—no one could handle it.
Those two people, one on each side, supported Qian Kaile and walked out. Although Qian Kaile looked reluctant, he was still dragged out by them.
When the word “one” came out, those people had just reached outside the door. Fu Yuhan snorted coldly and went over to close the back door.
Blocking out the hot wind from the corridor, the classroom’s air conditioning suddenly became clear.
A chill ran down his back.
Wen Yu looked at him: “What do you mean… you don’t care about getting disciplinary action?”
Fu Yuhan was stunned and lowered his eyes: “I was just talking nonsense.”
He seemed to have no interest in discussing this matter. The instant noodles were ready, with a faint appetizing aroma. Fu Yuhan returned to his seat and sat down, the plastic fork he’d pulled out spinning in a circle between his nimble fingertips before falling into the soup.
Wen Yu didn’t speak or move, standing in the middle-back area of the classroom, silently watching him.
“Xu Qianyi has quite a few rotten suitors. Do you know why our class particularly dislikes Qian Kaile?” Fu Yuhan kept his eyes straight ahead, speaking conversationally.
He waited three seconds, and seeing Wen Yu didn’t respond, continued on his own: “Because he’s the most disgusting. I’ve never seen any suitor send such filthy messages to their target.”
He lowered his head to slurp some noodles, his long lashes naturally drooping, casting shadows that made his expression look colder.
“If men can’t control that thing, they might as well not have it.”
“Are you explaining why you haven’t taken advantage of your close relationship to steal some intimate contact opportunities from Yang Fan all these years?”
“Sort of,” Fu Yuhan said. “Same principle.”
Wen Yu chuckled twice and walked back to sit down.
He seemed to suddenly lose interest in continuing the conversation, pulling out a set of practice papers distributed that morning from his drawer, doing problems while eating bread.
Fu Yuhan glanced at him: “Aren’t you going to check your phone?”
“?”
Wen Yu turned his head, his dark eyes meeting his.
He reached into his drawer, unlocked the screen, and pulled it out to look.
Fu Yuhan: Replied.
Wen Yu: “…”
This was his reply after that line about “being so disliked I didn’t even get a reply.”
“You…” he laughed despite himself.
Fu Yuhan: “What?”
“Nothing,” Wen Yu shook his head, his thumb rubbing the phone twice before tossing it back in the drawer. “I can’t figure you out.”
Fu Yuhan was stunned, glanced at him, just felt it was somewhat inexplicable, and lowered his head to eat noodles.
Fu Yuhan didn’t sleep in the afternoon, properly listening to several classes. He was naturally quiet to begin with. When he used to go out with Yang Fan and the others, it was always Wen Yu who picked fights with him first. But this afternoon Wen Yu didn’t talk to him, so they barely conversed at all.
This kind of quiet was about the same as sitting alone. He had originally thought Wen Yu would be very troublesome, but unexpectedly he wasn’t.
It was just that when his desk mate studied, he sat perfectly straight, dignified like a sculpture. When he occasionally turned his head, he found that First High uniform somewhat glaring.
After all, usually his peripheral vision only caught the classroom floor.
During the last period, Fu Yuhan checked his phone and walked over to Ge Ran to say a few words.
“Ah? You’re not attending evening self-study tonight?” Ge Ran took the key, hesitating. “The bulletin board…”
“I’ll draw it tomorrow.” Fu Yuhan handed her a piece of paper. “I’ve drawn the rough sketch. Is this okay?”
On the white paper, two long horizontal lines were drawn, roughly outlining the proportions of a blackboard. Fu Yuhan had drawn a person studying seriously in the center, with the background sketched out as a corner of a classroom with simple lines, and areas on both sides designated for copying articles.
Although simple, the person was drawn quite well, and the effect immediately came through.
“Great. This is exactly the kind of thing I wanted. As expected, coming to you was the right choice.” Ge Ran smiled with crinkled eyes. “If you’re not attending evening self-study, you need to ask for leave from the homeroom teacher.”
“It’s fine, no need.” Fu Yuhan was somewhat nonchalant. “I’ve skipped so many classes already, one evening self-study session won’t make a difference.”
Ge Ran couldn’t dissuade him from such matters, and she wasn’t close enough to Fu Yuhan to pry into what he was going to do, so she had to let it go.
Since some students didn’t participate in evening self-study, the school found it difficult to manage curfews and simply didn’t bother. After afternoon dismissal, there was a two-hour break when students could eat in the cafeteria or go outside or home to eat. Quite a few people picked up their bags and stood up. Fu Yuhan returned to his seat to tidy up his desk and slung his shoulder bag across his shoulder.
“Brother Fu?” Sun Wenrui called out to him. “Going home?”
Fu Yuhan made an affirmative sound, his steps not stopping as he quickly reached the back door.
“Strange, doesn’t Brother Fu dislike going home?” Fang Jiayuan muttered.
“Who knows,” Sun Wenrui craned his neck to look. “Probably has something to do again.”
Wen Yu looked up from his book, glanced at them, then looked toward the back door.
The youth’s hem had just disappeared around the corner, leaving only a shadow.
In early September, the weather was still stuffy and hot. Fu Yuhan walked to the school gate with his hands in his pockets and checked his phone.
The phone had been vibrating for the third time, but he didn’t really want to answer.
Qin Xiaolu was six years old this year, his half-sister from the same mother, born with a bad heart. If they couldn’t find a suitable organ donor, her condition would keep recurring like this.
First, they couldn’t find suitable organs; second, even if they did, they might not have money for the transplant. The condition was essentially unsolvable.
When He Yan was in a bad mood, she liked to take it out on him.
Being late to the hospital, not smiling, not being proactive in caring for his sister… everything was a sin.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t argued with her, but after many times he discovered that some things were futile efforts. Fu Yuhan turned off the vibration, tossed his phone back in his pocket, and walked to the bus stop.
No matter how unwilling, he still had to go to the hospital tonight.
A six-year-old little girl… even if she were a stranger.
Not to mention they shared half their blood.
When the bus swayed to the hospital, the sky had darkened considerably. Fu Yuhan opened his eyes, was dazed for three seconds, and got off just before the doors closed.
The hospital was always bustling with people—anxiety, fear, sadness… perhaps a little joy too. He passed through those many emotions and arrived at a temporary two-story building next to the inpatient department.
Not enough beds, no money, no connections—his sister could only stay here.
“I’m here…”
He entered the hospital room, and before he could finish two words, He Yan hurled a scolding at him: “So you finally decided to come? Is your phone just decoration? Didn’t you hear me calling you so many times?”
Fu Yuhan walked coldly to the other side of the bed, keeping his mother between them: “I was on the bus, fell asleep.”
“Your sister is like this and you can still sleep!”
“I’m not a machine.” Fu Yuhan didn’t want to argue with her and changed the subject: “What did the doctor say today?”
Qin Xiaolu had half her face buried in the blanket, looking somewhat flushed.
“What could they say? They can’t cure it anyway.” He Yan’s eyes reddened as she looked at her daughter with pity. “She had a fever today and got an IV. The doctor said if the fever breaks tonight, it’ll be fine.”
“Where’s uncle?”
“Working overtime.” He Yan wiped her eyes and yelled at Fu Yuhan again: “It’s all your fault! Just selling your three boxes of waste paper, why did you have to be so loud coming in? You scared your sister!”
Fu Yuhan didn’t respond.
Qin Xiaolu had a bad heart and was timid—she really couldn’t handle being startled. But when he came home yesterday, he hadn’t even gone to her room, and besides, the house had padding under the door frames for her sake, so opening and closing doors couldn’t make much noise.
Explanations were useless. As long as He Yan wanted to, she had countless ways to blame things on Fu Yuhan.
“Mama…”
The girl on the bed trembled as she opened her eyes, making a weak call as soft as a kitten.
He Yan immediately leaned over: “How do you feel? Any better?”
“Mm… I got sick on my own, don’t scold gege.” Qin Xiaolu struggled to open her eyes, her voice soft and gentle. “Mama, I’m hungry.”
“Mama will go buy you food. What do you want to eat?”
“Anything is fine…” Her large dark brown eyes turned halfway, and Qin Xiaolu looked toward the other side of the bed, asking softly: “Has gege eaten?”
Fu Yuhan shook his head.
“Then eat with me.” After saying this, she looked at He Yan again.
He Yan couldn’t do anything about her daughter and left saying “okay okay, eat together.”
The hospital room finally returned to brief peace, and Qin Xiaolu smiled at Fu Yuhan.
The tall, handsome youth finally bent down, reached out from his pants pocket, and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.
“How did you get the fever?” His voice was very low, making it sound more gentle.
“I don’t know, it just suddenly came.”
“Does it hurt?”
Qin Xiaolu shook her head and stuck out her tongue: “Mama yells and screams by herself, always saying you scare me. My gege is so handsome, how could I possibly be scared?”
Fu Yuhan’s expression softened somewhat.
“Will you stay here tonight too?” Qin Xiaolu asked quietly.
“Mm,” Fu Yuhan said. “Your papa is getting old, he can’t stay up at night.”
“I always feel like you work so hard… there’s no place for you to sleep here either.”
“There’s a sofa.”
“Won’t it be uncomfortable?”
Fu Yuhan paused: “It’s okay.”
Sickly children mature early, and Qin Xiaolu’s expression immediately became very sad.
“It would be good if you got better quickly.” Fu Yuhan ruffled her bangs.
“Gege.” She suddenly said, “Am I a burden? Hospitalization is so expensive, medicine is so expensive, mama worries about money every day; and I delay your time making you stay with me… They told me senior year is very important, but you have to spend so much time on me.”
“She has money, don’t believe her nonsense. When she divorced my dad, she got quite a lot. There’s no problem supporting your medication.” Fu Yuhan said, “As for me… whether I come or not doesn’t affect my studies.”
After all, he barely studied anyway.
Qin Xiaolu didn’t know these things and thought her brother was so good at studying that her eyes immediately showed admiration.
Fu Yuhan wasn’t used to being looked at like that by her.
He withdrew his hand and looked away slightly.
“Then you rest, I’ll… I’ll do homework.”
“Do it next to me,” Qin Xiaolu said softly.
Fu Yuhan looked down at her: “Okay.”
##
