CFHE Chapter 79.1

While driving, Wen Yu couldn’t do much, so he mentally noted this against Fu Yuhan, planning to settle accounts with him tonight, while driving the car out of the complex.

Evening rush hour hadn’t started yet. Although there were gradually signs of congestion on the road, they still arrived at the hospital smoothly.

In the hospital room, Uncle Qin was temporarily absent. When they walked in one after the other, He Yan was sitting by Qin Xiaolu’s bedside peeling an apple for her, saying while peeling: “What is it that you insist on waiting for your brother to come before you’ll say?”

Her voice was ethereal, mixed with the quiet, damp, cold air of winter, sounding somewhat haggard.

Fu Yuhan hadn’t really looked at He Yan properly in a long time. Since their last fight, or since he refused the 200 yuan He Yan gave him weekly, mother and son had fallen into a cold war relationship.

Although actually it seemed no different in essence from before—

Before, He Yan would scold him while Fu Yuhan listened silently; later, He Yan shut her mouth and they ignored each other.

It happened that during this period, Qin Xiaolu’s physical condition wasn’t very good, so He Yan and Old Qin took turns running to the hospital. Fu Yuhan often didn’t come home either; occasionally when they bumped into each other hastily at home, it was He Yan coming home to rest while Fu Yuhan studied in his room, with almost no words exchanged.

Therefore, it wasn’t until this moment that Fu Yuhan suddenly realized He Yan had lost a lot of weight.

Once a boy’s adolescence begins and his bean sprout-like figure starts growing, within less than a year, the mother who originally seemed tall and imposing would become petite, even appearing somewhat frail.

This was caused by differences in male and female physiological structure. Fu Yuhan had long stopped being afraid of He Yan’s criticism or even scolding.

But he always waited silently, only talking back a few sentences when he couldn’t hold it in anymore, and usually not very loudly.

Yang Fan had once asked him why he didn’t shout back.

Fu Yuhan thought about it and said shouting back felt like kicking someone when they were down.

Because he was so tall and his mother so petite, and in his view, she was even somewhat pitiful—

When Fu Yuhan first started forming memories, He Yan didn’t work outside. It was said that her pregnancy reactions were too severe, and after giving birth to Fu Yuhan, she needed time to take care of him. Plus, Fu Xuecheng’s business was going very well those years, so she quit her job.

A man busy with business outside and a woman at home focusing entirely on the child—such couples usually couldn’t make it work.

Over time, conflicts would gradually emerge.

Fu Xuecheng might not have had an affair—at least Fu Yuhan hadn’t heard of or discovered any—but the completely different life trajectories of the couple would make them gradually lose common topics, followed by cold violence.

He Yan was emotional, and Fu Xuecheng found communicating with her difficult, so he refused to communicate, making He Yan even more emotional.

A vicious cycle.

A few years later, Fu Xuecheng’s business had some minor problems, making the family much more difficult than before, so he required He Yan to go out and work for a while.

It was very difficult for a middle-aged woman who had lost her career for many years to find decent, easy, and profitable work.

And at that time, Fu Yuhan was at his most mischievous age.

Admittedly, overall he wasn’t a very mischievous child, but the dual exhaustion of taking care of a child while working was indeed quite a burden for He Yan. With setbacks at work, a husband who didn’t understand her, and a son who wasn’t sensible yet, the triple blow made He Yan sensitive, fragile, and irritable.

Fu Yuhan didn’t understand at the time.

Fortunately, his memory was good, and he gradually figured out many things after his parents’ divorce. Later, he even wondered if his attraction to Yang Fan might have been because he witnessed his parents’ utterly failed marriage, leaving him with negative thoughts.

Something like “heterosexuality is nothing special.”

Now when he looked back at his mother and her life after the divorce, he roughly understood why she had gradually become this way.

Qin Xiaolu had been in poor health since birth. He Yan felt both heartbroken and guilty, thinking it was her fault for giving birth at an advanced age. The long-term treatment also brought financial pressure, forcing both He Yan and Uncle Qin to find part-time jobs in addition to their regular work to supplement the household income.

Life’s pressures could drive people crazy, especially someone who wasn’t very good at managing herself to begin with.

Sometimes Fu Yuhan felt a bit pathetic because he had come to understand his mother through long silence, but his mother had never tried to understand him.

Communication, like all interpersonal relationships, had to be bidirectional. It was useless if only one side made an effort.

She was so pitiful.

She was also so hateful.

Especially now, Fu Yuhan felt his recent days could be happy enough to reach the sky, making him feel even more that his mother’s life wasn’t easy. Although from his standpoint, he wasn’t prepared to forgive her—after all, he didn’t have such a good temper—this didn’t prevent Fu Yuhan from sympathizing with her.

She had lost so much weight she was almost deformed.

“What does Xiao Lu want to say?” Fu Yuhan asked while walking, “I’m here.”

Qin Xiaolu turned around, her eyes immediately brightening, her voice small: “Big brother.”

He Yan also looked over and frowned: “What happened to your leg?”

“Got a minor injury, nothing serious.” Fu Yuhan said.

“Then who is this?” She looked at the person behind her son.

“Wen Yu.” He Yan was aware of school matters, so Fu Yuhan didn’t explain further.

Learning this was the transfer student “grade first” who tutored her son, He Yan nodded and didn’t say anything. Apples oxidized quickly, so she lowered her head to continue peeling while saying: “You can say what you want to say now.”

“Then I’ll say it.”

Qin Xiaolu looked at Fu Yuhan, then timidly glanced at her: “I want to be discharged.”

He Yan’s peeling hand paused.

“I don’t want treatment anymore, since it can’t be cured anyway. Instead of spending this money, why not let me go out and play while I can still walk…”

Fu Yuhan’s gaze moved slightly, falling on his sister’s face.

The night before, he had heard her express her unwillingness to continue treatment, but this was the first time he heard the latter half of her statement.

But thinking about it again, it was quite understandable—Xiao Lu had been in poor health since birth and had never properly attended school for more than a few days. Over these years, most of her life trajectory consisted only of that small room at home and the hospital.

Different hospitals, different wards, different doctors, but similar treatment methods and equipment.

“What nonsense are you talking!” After several seconds of silence, He Yan suddenly looked up and scolded sharply, “You’re doing fine!”

The patient in the next bed had been discharged today, and the new patient was still going through admission procedures and hadn’t moved in yet. He Yan’s shout only scared Qin Xiaolu.

And maybe half of Wen Yu—because he hadn’t experienced this style before.

“The family has spent so much money on you, is this the kind of talk you’re supposed to give? Let me tell you, Qin Xiaolu, you’re not going anywhere—you’ll stay in the hospital!”

Her voice was sharp and high-pitched, drawing sideways glances from doctors and nurses passing in the corridor, and successfully making the already timid Qin Xiaolu swallow back her remaining words.

Fu Yuhan frowned and interrupted her: “Mom, about what I said yesterday, did Uncle Qin mention it to you?”

“Sell the house? I don’t agree!” She suddenly turned around, looking at him with a fierce expression, “Don’t say anymore. There will always be ways to get money, but the house absolutely cannot be touched.”

“What’s the reason?”

“Anyway, I just don’t agree!”

Fu Yuhan frowned again.

She was indeed sick—her condition was worse than before.

“Where’s Uncle Qin?” He said, glancing at Qin Xiaolu, “Where’s your dad?”

“Dad said he was going to get medicine for me…”

Before she could finish, He Yan interrupted: “What are you looking for him for? Let me tell you, Fu Yuhan, even if he comes, if I say I don’t agree, I still don’t agree!”

Wen Yu stood there grinding his teeth, vaguely feeling annoyed.

But remembering what Fu Yuhan had said earlier, he didn’t move.

“Mom, I became an adult half a month ago.” Fu Yuhan thought and said, “Theoretically, I no longer need a guardian.”

“…” He Yan was suddenly stunned.

“I made a special trip here today, besides promising Xiao Lu I’d come see her, also to have a proper word with you,” he paused, his tone casual as usual, “don’t always have ‘let me tell you’ hanging on your lips. Please, occasionally close your mouth and listen carefully to other people’s thoughts.”

Fu Yuhan rarely talked back, and whenever he did refute, he always wore a forbearing and suppressed expression.

Not like now, so nonchalant, as if he didn’t care about every word He Yan had said.

“Ah—!!!”

The apple and small knife were unexpectedly thrown to the ground by her. He Yan held her head and screamed, then in the next second before anyone could react, she burst into tears.

“What’s happening?” Old Qin came running in from outside with a pile of forms and plastic bags. Seeing He Yan’s condition, he immediately dropped everything in his hands and rushed to the bedside, picked up a medicine bottle, poured out pills and made her swallow them, then started patting her back as if comforting her.

After He Yan took the medicine, her crying gradually subsided, and the volume finally no longer sounded so frightening.

Only then did Old Qin look up, his cloudy eyes showing fatigue, and greet Fu Yuhan: “You came.”

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