CFHE Chapter 95

“…If you weren’t sleep-deprived,” Wen Yu pointed at him, “I’d definitely drag you back into the room right now for seventeen or eighteen rounds.”

“The birthday gives you special privileges but don’t go too far.” Fu Yuhan warned him. “Besides, don’t you have to go back to school in a bit?”

“I can go after we’re done.”

Fu Yuhan felt like his whole body was about to catch fire: “Then I won’t be able to walk.”

“Why would you need to walk?” Wen Yu looked at him strangely. “You want to come with me?”

Fu Yuhan found it even stranger than he did: “I’m not going?”

“Did Teacher Zhou call you?”

“No.”

“Then don’t go.” Wen Yu said. “In a bit, you go back in and sleep some more—what? I’m not three years old. Going back to school doesn’t require you to accompany me, does it?”

“I thought you were.” Fu Yuhan raised an eyebrow. “At school, even going to the bathroom you had to drag me along.”

“Was that really for the bathroom? Wasn’t it to secretly—”

He didn’t get to say “kiss you.”

Because Fu Yuhan bent down and kissed him.

This was a very pure kiss, just a light, shallow touch, carrying their familiar woody fragrance, together with the brilliant summer afternoon sunlight streaming in from outside the window.

–

The birthday boy cut the first slice of cake, then the two each took a corner piece and ate it with the hearty brunch Fu Yuhan had made. What they couldn’t finish, they tidied away into the refrigerator.

After eating, his blood sugar rose. Fu Yuhan was already tired and kept yawning.

“Sit for half an hour to digest,” Wen Yu finished clearing the table and sat down next to Fu Yuhan holding the stack of albums. “Then you go into the room to sleep, and I’ll go back to school.”

“I’m so sleepy right now.” Fu Yuhan stared blankly at his movements, his gaze unfocused.

“That won’t do. You can’t sleep right after eating.”

“Then…” Fu Yuhan thought about it and stood up. “I’ll organize the things I moved over. I haven’t tidied them up… Find something to do so I don’t fall asleep.”

He walked toward the small room. Wen Yu lowered his head to look at the album.

The things Fu Yuhan brought over were moved before the house was sold. Back then they were living on the second floor of Chen Feifan’s bar and never got around to organizing. Speaking of which, the two of them had been rather lazy lately. After the college entrance exam, they’d moved back here, but there were still some things left at Chen Feifan’s place that they hadn’t retrieved.

Fu Yuhan dragged out the simplest box and opened it, taking out his clothes one by one. Those dirtied during the move went into the washing machine, the rest he organized into their proper places in the wardrobe.

Boys grew fast. He’d had another growth spurt in ninth grade. His current clothes were all bought during high school—not many in total. This box was organized pretty quickly. In less than twenty minutes, Fu Yuhan went to drag over a second box and opened it.

This box contained miscellaneous items. Fu Yuhan first fished out his five or six surviving figurines and placed them in the small room, together with the broken RX-93 that Wen Yu had reassembled. Some decorations originally in his room were also placed on the curio shelf in the small room.

After finishing organizing the personal items on the upper layer, Fu Yuhan suddenly noticed an unfamiliar box positioned in the middle-lower section of the box.

That day when organizing, he’d been in a rush. He did remember finding a few things from his room that he had no memory of and stuffing them all into the box together. Thinking this, he reached out to fish out the box, sat on the sofa, and opened it.

The next second, Fu Yuhan slammed the lid back down with a “smack.”

His movement was a bit loud, startling Wen Yu, who was absorbed in looking at the album. He suddenly turned his head and looked at him with a strange expression: “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Fu Yuhan’s gaze flickered. “Got the wrong one…”

“What is it? Let me see.”

The subtle expression on his face caught Wen Yu’s attention. Wen Yu set the album aside and reached out to grab the box, but unexpectedly, Fu Yuhan—who never said “no” to such small matters—actually hugged the box and nimbly dodged, sliding off the sofa, attempting to stuff the box back into the cardboard box.

“The cardboard box is going to be thrown away in a bit.” Wen Yu said with amusement. “I know every place in this house where you could hide something. How long can you hold onto that box?”

Fu Yuhan: “…”

“Really can’t let me see?” Wen Yu raised an eyebrow.

Rationally, he was willing to respect his lover’s attempt to maintain a bit of privacy.

Although emotionally he would be unhappy about it.

Fu Yuhan pressed his lips together, eyes downcast, not looking at him.

But he didn’t speak either.

“If you don’t want me to see it, I won’t look.” Wen Yu said.

“…It’s nothing really,” Fu Yuhan lifted his eyelids, his face seeming somewhat unable to maintain composure. “Just promise me you won’t laugh after seeing it.”

After hearing this, Wen Yu already wanted to start laughing.

He barely suppressed the corners of his lips that kept wanting to curve upward and nodded: “Okay, I won’t laugh.”

Only then did Fu Yuhan walk back and hand him the box.

The box was a very ordinary gift box. Wen Yu thought there would be something extraordinary inside, but unexpectedly, upon opening it, there was a thick notebook with a velvet cover.

Technology had developed so fast that he didn’t realize what it was at first. Only after opening it did he discover it was an old-fashioned photo album.

On the first page of the album, inside the transparent sleeve was a yellowed old photograph of a delicate and handsome little boy wearing a red hat, sitting properly on an old-fashioned armchair.

“Is this you?” Wen Yu was somewhat surprised, quickly smiling gently. “Pretty cute.”

“…I hope you still have that reaction after seeing the rest.” Fu Yuhan lowered his eyes and silently went to pack up his scattered belongings.

“Hey,” Wen Yu called to him. “Won’t you look at it with me?”

“…No thank you.” Fu Yuhan declined very politely.

Wen Yu didn’t quite understand why he was reacting this way.

Until he turned to the second page—

“…Pfft.” Wen Yu nearly choked on his own saliva. “Hahahaha Fu Yuhan, you had days like this too.”

Fu Yuhan looked up and stared at Wen Yu: “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t laugh?”

“I’m a well-trained person. I don’t usually laugh, unless I can’t help it.”

“You’re sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

“…I was wrong.” Wen Yu surrendered in one second.

But the photos on the second page had a magical quality. The moment he looked down and saw the photos, he couldn’t control the corners of his mouth lifting, so he could only press his lips tightly into a line.

The second page had two photos inserted. Based on the background and people, they were probably taken one after another at the same place on the same day. In the lower left corner, elegant handwriting noted—”Fu Yuhan’s 100th day.”

The photos showed a little baby, much smaller than the one on the first page, with a round face that made it hard to tell if it was a boy or girl, round eyes staring—people would believe it if you said it was a little girl.

Except the photo content wasn’t very “girly”—

In the first one, the little baby was lying on a platform, completely bare, lotus-root-like chubby little arms stretched forward, as if wanting to play with the photographer.

In the second one, the little baby was standing, somehow smeared with dark ink all over that pretty face, looking tearful and miserable.

Both photos were literally nude shots. The second one had a huge fake leaf covering the crucial parts—both pitiful and hilarious.

The photos themselves were fairly normal, but thinking of Fu Yuhan’s perpetual “stay away from me” expression that was practically tangible, the comedy factor could be multiplied by two.

The later photos continued in this style—baby playing in water, baby blowing birthday candles, little kid doing homework, and so on. Quite a few were one smiling photo and one crying photo. Very interesting, just not many—Wen Yu quickly reached the end.

“There’s nothing after this?” He looked up and asked after finishing.

“After I started kindergarten, they fought often.” Fu Yuhan kept his eyes down while organizing things, saying casually as he worked, “When they fought, no one took me to play. Later… they separated.” His long lashes trembled lightly. “Around… when I was ten.”

Wen Yu opened his mouth: “That’s really… quite a coincidence.”

“Mm.” Fu Yuhan smiled faintly. “Maybe it’s fate.”

When they were ten, they both lost their homes.

Their birthdays were only about half a year apart, roughly the same year.

“That’s actually good,” Wen Yu lowered his eyes, looking at the album. “Although… it’s not a happy thing, but maybe… this means we were fated to be together.”

“Mm,” Fu Yuhan looked at him with a smile. “Who’s to say otherwise?”

“Too bad I don’t have a photo album to show you.”

“Forget it, it’s fine.” Fu Yuhan thought about it and said, “I’ve already seen you drunk. That should be embarrassing enough. We’ll reluctantly call it even.”

Wen Yu: “…”

“Do you know why I drank seven… ah no, six bottles that day?” Wen Yu suddenly laughed.

“Why?”

“Because I realized I’d fallen for you,” he said self-mockingly. “I was thinking, ‘Someone like me who treats life as a game and is neurotic, who should be treating everyone else as idiots—why is the biggest idiot actually me?'”

“Oh,” Fu Yuhan looked at him. “‘Falling for me’ equals ‘being an idiot’?”

“Anyone who gets emotionally involved is an idiot,” Wen Yu smiled. “But I accept it. Fu-ge, I’m just a vulgar person.”

“…”

“You’re the idiot—don’t drag me into it.” Fu Yuhan looked uninvolved. “I actually think falling for Wen Yu was a particularly smart move. Look at our study god—both handsome and intelligent, casually bringing home a top scorer title, bringing so much honor to us Fus—”

Wen Yu jumped off the sofa, slid over to Fu Yuhan in two steps, squatted down, and reached out to hug him: “Can I go to school a bit later?”

Fu Yuhan: “???”

He discovered with horror that Wen Yu was dragging him toward the bedroom.

“No? Wait? Yu-ge—” he said repeatedly. “Last night we just—”

Wen Yu kissed his cheek: “When you wished me happy birthday, you said you’d try to fulfill all my wishes today.”

“But that doesn’t include—hey, you have to go to school—”

“It’s not until 3 PM! There’s still time!”

“…”

“Wen Yu!! You Teddy!!!”

He really, really, really was going to fall apart.

“It’s fine.” An hour later, Wen Yu kissed his sweat-dampened forehead and said softly and gently, “If you fall apart, I’ll help put you back together.”

But he wasn’t that Gundam model.

Fu Yuhan was too tired to say a single word. This sentence echoed in his mind several times before finally carrying him into dreamland.

Wen Yu tucked in the blanket corners for him, switched the AC to sleep mode, then went to shower again, changed clothes, and went out.

***

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