CFHE Chapter 94

“Yu-ge!”

 

Fu Yuhan suddenly stood up, wanting to share the good news.

 

He was sleep-deprived, had been busy all morning without eating breakfast, and stood up too quickly—his vision went black for an instant. As he steadied himself against the sofa back and recovered, he suddenly thought of something else.

 

Was this score high? Yes.

 

Was it the top score? Not necessarily.

 

Wen Yu’s phone was off. Whether it was or not, congratulatory calls couldn’t get through.

 

He calmed down and sat back down, pulling out his phone to call his homeroom teacher.

 

Zhou Wenkang’s phone was quite busy at the moment. His first call didn’t go through. After waiting two minutes and redialing, the other side finally picked up.

 

“Hello?” As soon as the call connected, Fu Yuhan asked hurriedly, “Teacher Zhou, this is Fu Yuhan. I wanted to ask about Wen Yu…”

 

“Hm? Why are you thinking of asking about him? Did you check your own score?” On the other end, Zhou Wenkang chuckled. “You two get along pretty well now, huh?”

 

“Uh… I checked. My score is enough to apply to T University.” Fu Yuhan belatedly realized he was indeed being too eager. He paused, enduring the embarrassment that was nearly burning his ears, and said with feigned composure, “I’m at Wen Yu’s place. His phone died, so I wanted to ask… is he…”

 

“Oh, I see. Then have him turn on his phone quickly.” Zhou Wenkang paused, the smile in his voice growing thicker. “Yes, he’s our province’s top science scorer this year.”

 

Fu Yuhan quickly pressed his lips together, suppressing the impulse to gasp.

 

Being too excited might make him seem undignified.

 

He calmed down slightly and said softly in thanks: “Okay, thank you, Teacher Zhou. I’ll let him know… Goodbye.”

 

“Hey, wait.” Zhou Wenkang quickly stopped him. “How about this—have him come to school this afternoon?”

 

Fu Yuhan glanced at the wall clock: “Around what time?”

 

“Anytime before 3 PM. Earlier would be better.”

 

“Okay.” Fu Yuhan licked his lips. “Then… goodbye, Teacher Zhou.”

 

He hung up and let out a long breath.

 

June—outside the window, the sunlight was brilliant. Somewhere unknown, there was a commotion over the big event of college entrance exam scores being released, but the air-conditioned room around him was incredibly quiet.

 

Fu Yuhan looked out the window and took several deep breaths, finally feeling he’d regained his usual composure.

 

Only then did he get up and enter the room.

 

“Yu-ge.”

 

Fu Yuhan stepped across the floor in the darkness, finding the familiar bedside without error, and pushed at the part where the AC blanket bulged. “Yu-ge, wake up.”

 

“Mm…”

 

Wen Yu groggily turned over. His long arm reached out to hug him, but grabbed empty air. Only then did he open his eyes and carefully make things out for a while.

 

“Xiao Han?” His voice was hoarse. “You’re up? This early—doesn’t your body hurt?”

 

Oh, speaking of that.

 

Fu Yuhan laughed: “It hurts, of course it hurts. Don’t you have any idea how you tormented me?”

 

“Then why didn’t you sleep a bit more?” Wen Yu squinted, reaching out to him. “Come here, lie down for a while longer.”

 

Fu Yuhan’s body tilted as he was pulled. Helplessly, he slipped in from the edge of the AC blanket and lay down beside him. Wen Yu naturally wrapped his arms around him, his nose tip falling to his neck to sniff: “Smells good.”

 

“I made food, of course there’s a nice smell.” Fu Yuhan smiled. “Yu-ge, happy birthday.”

 

“Is this my birthday present?”

 

“No, just a ‘birthday special service.'” Fu Yuhan shook his head.

 

“Then don’t get up early for this kind of thing. We went to sleep so late yesterday.” Wen Yu frowned slightly. “I don’t want you sacrificing your health to prepare some surprise for me.”

 

“Oh.” Fu Yuhan smiled at the ceiling.

 

Wen Yu: “…”

 

“Alright,” he sighed, nuzzling Fu Yuhan’s neck hollow twice more, his voice low and hoarse, carrying some guilt. “…I’m very happy. Sorry.”

 

Although rationally he knew this wasn’t good, when Fu Yuhan made any sacrifice for him, that strange possessiveness inside Wen Yu would be satisfied.

 

No matter how he thought about it, he was too twisted.

 

“It’s fine.” Fu Yuhan shook his head. “This is nothing.”

 

“But don’t do it too often. I’m worried about your body… Chronic sleep deprivation isn’t good for your health.”

 

“Then how about you torment me less at night?”

 

“That won’t work. No negotiation on that.” Wen Yu sniffed. “Besides, what I meant was you smell really good—did you shower after getting up?”

 

They usually showered before bed and wouldn’t shower again after waking up.

 

“Mm, I felt drowsy when I got up, so I went to take a shower.” Fu Yuhan turned and hugged him back. “Get up? Get up and celebrate your birthday.”

 

Wen Yu hummed but didn’t move even though he opened his eyes.

 

Fu Yuhan kissed the tip of his nose, leaning close in the darkness, gazing into the other’s eyes at an extremely close distance.

 

Then he said quietly: “Yu-ge, congratulations.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Top science scorer.”

 

Wen Yu blinked.

 

“You’re this year’s top science scorer, 716 points.” Fu Yuhan thought he hadn’t processed it and repeated it again.

 

Wen Yu blinked again: “Then how many points did you get?”

 

“682.”

 

“Seems like it’s not as high as the third mock exam.”

 

“Mm, but it’s enough.” Fu Yuhan said. “My art major ranking was decent. There shouldn’t be a problem.”

 

“Good.” Wen Yu smiled, closed his eyes, and leaned over. “Keep me company for ten more minutes of sleep.”

 

“…”

 

“???” Fu Yuhan was a bit shocked and shook him awake. “Yu-ge, do you know you’re this year’s top science scorer?”

 

“I heard… but what does it have to do with me?” Wen Yu yawned, struggling to sleep. “I never worried about whether I could get into T University before the exam…”

 

“But that’s—”

 

“I don’t care, Xiao Han. I’m not interested in studying.” Wen Yu said with his eyes closed. “For me, being able to continue as classmates with you is enough—oh, maybe it has some use. As the top scorer, Wen Ziming might be so happy he’ll bother me even less.”

 

“…”

 

Fu Yuhan was stunned for quite a while, then helplessly sighed.

 

Then the corners of his mouth curved into a slight smile. He leaned close to Wen Yu’s ear and said softly: “But Teacher Zhou wants you to go to school before 3 PM this afternoon.”

 

Wen Yu: “…”

 

“Also, if you don’t get up, the food I made will get cold.”

 

Wen Yu: “…”

 

He sat bolt upright with a whoosh, turned to look at Fu Yuhan still lying there, and gave him a thumbs-up through gritted teeth.

 

“When it comes to not letting me sleep, you’re number one.”

 

This sentence was rather ambiguous. Fu Yuhan thought of something else, his face immediately unable to maintain composure, and punched him back.

 

His Majesty the Birthday Boy finally got out of bed—

 

Walking out of the room, hands behind his back, he slowly surveyed the dishes on the table like a king inspecting his territory, nodded with satisfaction, then went into the bathroom to wash up.

 

Fu Yuhan took this opportunity to take out the cake that had been delivered to the refrigerator that morning, lit the candles, and closed the curtains.

 

He sat at the table watching the candle flames flicker, waiting for him to come out. When he did, he turned and offered a smile: “Yu-ge, happy birthday.”

 

Wen Yu walked over to hug him and kissed him heavily: “Thank you, baby.”

 

This kiss was loud—a “smack” that made Fu Yuhan lean to the side. He covered his face in disgust and pushed Wen Yu away: “Go make a wish.”

 

“I hope—” Wen Yu closed his eyes, making a prayer gesture.

 

“Shut up!” Fu Yuhan couldn’t help scolding him. “If you say your wish out loud, it won’t come true!”

 

Wen Yu thought to himself that keeping quiet didn’t necessarily make it come true either.

 

But he still fell silent, silently reciting a sentence facing the candlelight—

 

May Wen Yu and Fu Yuhan last forever, through poverty or wealth, health or sickness.

 

Because a drifting ship needs its unique lighthouse to cross the dark seas.

 

I am your light, and you illuminate me as well.

 

He opened his eyes.

 

“…Xiao Han?”

 

Upon opening his eyes, Fu Yuhan was no longer at the table. Wen Yu looked up and saw him walking out of the small room.

 

Fu Yuhan had keys now—Wen Yu had made him a copy. But that room’s window was sealed shut and had no overhead light, so it was generally just used as storage. The two rarely went in.

 

Wen Yu was somewhat surprised to see him carry out a box: “What’s this?”

 

“Your gift.” Fu Yuhan set down the large box, opened it, and first took out a smaller box to hand to him. “An album of paintings for you.”

 

Wen Yu blinked.

 

“The rest are all worthless trinkets.” Fu Yuhan sat down on the floor in front of him, taking things out one by one. “I found a lot of things I played with as a kid. I wanted to let you experience them—here, Yu-Gi-Oh! card packs.”

 

He pulled out a holographic foil package about the size of playing cards with stuff inside.

 

When he looked up, his eyes reflected a bit of faint candlelight, sincere and fervent.

 

Wen Yu’s gaze shifted slightly: “Xiao Han.”

 

“Yu-ge,” Fu Yuhan smiled at him. “The childhood you lost—I want to give it all back to you. It’s not worth much money, but I hope you’ll like it.”

 

“I like it,” Wen Yu looked at him quietly. “How could I not like it?”

 

Who could be unmoved by someone who cared about them so deeply?

 

These days, money could buy anything except a “past.”

 

“Get up, don’t sit on the floor. We’ll look at the toys slowly later. Let me blow out the candles first.” Wen Yu reached out to pull him up. “I want to see the album.”

 

This stack of albums was much thicker than he’d imagined—thicker than six volumes of *Five-Year College Entrance Exam, Three-Year Mock Exam* from senior year review combined.

 

He didn’t know how many drawings of him Fu Yuhan had made without his knowledge.

 

“Then blow them out,” Fu Yuhan stood up. “Did you finish making your wish?”

 

“I did,” Wen Yu glanced at him teasingly. “Want me to tell you what it was?”

 

“No, saying it out loud makes it not come true.” Fu Yuhan was very firm. “Don’t say it.”

 

Wen Yu raised an eyebrow and blew out the candles in one breath.

 

The curtains were pulled open again, the room brightened, and Wen Yu almost couldn’t wait to open the small box on his lap.

 

The exposed sketchbook covers looked familiar, and they were all the same pattern without exception. Wen Yu belatedly remembered something: “Did you buy new sketchbooks specially?”

 

“Mm.” Fu Yuhan nodded.

 

“Did you… use all the sketchbooks with this cover to draw me?”

 

“Mm.” Fu Yuhan was slightly surprised. “You could even guess that?”

 

Wen Yu lowered his eyes, his voice very soft: “The first time I saw you use this sketchbook cover was around last December, right?”

 

Back then, he thought Fu Yuhan had finished an old notebook and randomly bought a new set. He’d wondered why he used two different covers at the same time, switching back and forth every day.

 

He’d originally thought it was just a random grab, not realizing it was deliberate.

 

Actually, this was just a very small thing.

 

But Wen Yu felt something that was hard to express in words… moved, or perhaps happy.

 

Fu Yuhan clapped: “Worthy of being a study god—such strong memory.”

 

“I remember these little things because I like you.” Wen Yu shook his head and opened the topmost sketchbook, saying casually, “I still haven’t remembered the names of those two girls in the front two rows of our group.”

 

Every page of the album was dated and organized in order. When Wen Yu opened the first page, he clearly saw it was marked December 1st.

 

This was Fu Yuhan’s style of flowing, day-by-day diary.

 

They were all drawings of small things, each of which had appeared in their lives together. So although Wen Yu had almost forgotten some things himself, when he saw those lifelike sketches, he could still quickly recall them.

 

A thick stack of sketches recording the entire process of them being together.

 

“I should frame these drawings and take them out to reminisce when we’re in our seventies or eighties…” Wen Yu looked up, suddenly realizing Fu Yuhan hadn’t made a sound for a while. “What’s… why are your ears red?”

 

Fu Yuhan stood in front of him, pressing his lips together, looking straight at him, ear tips slightly flushed.

 

Wen Yu briefly recalled what he’d just said and laughed: “Just saying I like you once makes you this shy? Fu-ge, how can you be so innocent?”

 

Fu Yuhan looked at him, bent down, and murmured softly by his ear: “Yu-ge, I love you.”

 

Two minutes later, he looked at Wen Yu’s burning cheeks and said innocently: “You have the nerve to talk about me?”

 

***

 

Author’s Notes: Merry Christmas~

 

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