CFHE Chapter 66.1

This matter had to start from noon.

Wen Yu, having his dinner invitation rejected, was naturally quite angry.

He just didn’t understand—admittedly, losing control of his emotions and yelling at Fu Yuhan was his fault, but… wasn’t that because he was worried about Fu Yuhan?

Otherwise, who would tell someone they liked “why don’t you go confess”?

Did he think it felt good?

During the morning exam, he was still struggling with whether to oppose his father once and do poorly on the test. After all, this was just the preliminaries—theoretically, passing the line would allow participation in the semifinals, and whether he got first place made no difference. But in the afternoon, because he was angry, he kept thinking about how to settle accounts with Fu Yuhan during the exam, and before he realized it, he had finished the test paper.

Under the strange gazes of the supervising teacher and fellow examinees, he handed in his paper and left the examination room fifteen minutes early. Only when he walked to the school bus did he remember that he couldn’t leave the test site alone—

He called Fu Yuhan—phone turned off.

Called again—still turned off.

Some things couldn’t be thought about too deeply; the more you thought, the angrier you got.

By the time he finally got off the bus, Wen Yu, this human-shaped walking bomb, had already lit his fuse, just waiting for the “boom” moment.

The bus stopped at school. It was just before 6 PM in the evening, school had long ended, and the campus was very quiet. Just in case, Wen Yu first returned to the classroom to confirm Fu Yuhan wasn’t there before heading home.

While walking, he kept calling Fu Yuhan. When he couldn’t get through, he started contacting Fang Jiayuan.

Just as he walked through the residential complex gate, his phone vibrated. He unlocked it to look—

Fang Jiayuan: Fu-ge said, “certain people also turned off their phones yesterday.”

Wen Yu: “…”

This petty guy.

He found it a bit amusing. The anger he’d been holding in all afternoon suddenly dissipated by more than half. Wen Yu took a breath, pursed his lips, and walked home.

Unexpectedly, before he even reached the apartment building entrance, he ran into an enthusiastic auntie coming toward him.

That was his neighbor. Living alone, his interactions with neighbors were limited to nodding greetings when they made eye contact. He didn’t expect the auntie to abandon her usual aloofness and immediately ask upon meeting: “You’re back?”

The fake “politeness” that Fu Yuhan had criticized many times automatically activated when encountering strangers. Wen Yu curved an appropriate smile and nodded: “Is there something, auntie?”

“Oh, nothing.” The auntie said, “I just wanted to tell you that last night there was a very handsome young man—wearing the same school uniform as you, probably your classmate—who came looking for you late at night. But you weren’t home then, and apparently his calls couldn’t get through either. I was afraid you didn’t know about this, so when I saw you I thought I’d mention it.”

“…”

A “very handsome” young man…?

Wen Yu was speechless.

He was stunned for several seconds before coming to his senses, gesturing with his hands: “Auntie, the person you’re talking about, was he about this tall, thin, with slightly long hair… someone who looks a bit aloof?”

“Aloof? Not really. I thought that young man was just quiet, quite polite!”

“Oh… okay. Then he… how long did he wait for me?”

Wen Yu felt he didn’t really need confirmation. Apart from Fu Yuhan, he hadn’t brought anyone else to this place. Who else would wear a Third High uniform and come wait for him besides Fu Yuhan?

Seeing his haggard appearance this morning… he couldn’t have waited all night, could he?

Last night he was forcibly taken home by Wen Ziming. Not wanting to study or talk, Fang Wanjing made him a bowl of soup, and after drinking it he went to sleep—that was only around eight in the evening.

It wasn’t until he woke up in the morning and saw the discolored ground in the courtyard that he realized it had rained last night.

If Fu Yuhan really had waited all night, then his obviously pale complexion, the nasal tone during the noon phone call—everything could be connected; even his not going shopping with Yang Fan.

What should have made Wen Yu happy became increasingly uncomfortable the more he thought about it, because of his own impulsive decision to turn off his phone last night.

The neighbor auntie didn’t give him a chance to harbor false hopes: “I don’t know about that. Anyway, when I finished taking out the trash and went home around 12 o’clock, he was still sitting there. Why don’t you go ask him yourself? He should be your classmate, right?”

“…Mm, I’ll go ask.” Wen Yu smiled, “Thank you, auntie.”

Even the other half of his anger dissipated, replaced by something called guilt.

Wen Yu thought for a moment, took out his phone, and replied “thanks” to Fang Jiayuan.

No wonder Fu Yuhan didn’t want to deal with him, he thought.

No wonder.

Wen Yu ate dinner alone and returned to school early for evening self-study, but didn’t expect Fu Yuhan to not be there at all. He asked Ge Ran and learned the other person had class tonight.

He did know where the art class was held… fortunately he knew.

Wen Yu didn’t even realize that at that moment, he breathed a sigh of relief.

To wait here before the art class ended, Wen Yu went to the supervising teacher and used his “competition student” status to ask for half a period of evening self-study leave. The teacher found it strange that he came to school when he didn’t have to, only to leave again. Wen Yu had to claim he wasn’t feeling well, and was questioned by that teacher for a long time.

It was quite cold today.

After all that trouble, plus standing here in the cold wind for half an hour, Wen Yu felt no impatience whatsoever. After saying one sentence and seeing Fu Yuhan didn’t respond, he made his tone even gentler and softer: “Still angry? I really was wrong.”

Fu Yuhan finally answered him, his voice cold and indifferent: “What were you wrong about?”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you last night,” Wen Yu walked toward him, “and I shouldn’t have turned off my phone…”

“Actually, what you said wasn’t wrong. What I did does look stupid to others.” Fu Yuhan calmly interrupted him, “I’m just used to doing that, and I’ll never say ‘I like him’ to Yang Fan in this lifetime. You can call me stupid, call me pretentious, stubborn, or nitpicking—I don’t care.”

Fu Yuhan paused here, “But you really shouldn’t have turned off your phone.”

Wen Yu was choked by his words: “Mm…”

Fu Yuhan paused again, lowered his eyes, and said: “Forget it, turning off the phone is fine too. I can’t control you.”

“…What if I said you could control me?”

“No need, thanks.” Fu Yuhan was almost choked by him. He glanced at him and licked his dry lips, “Don’t look for things from friends that you couldn’t get from your parents… I understood this long ago.”

He was clearly talking about his own feelings for Yang Fan, but Wen Yu inexplicably felt like he’d been shot in the knee.

He could finally glimpse a tiny bit of the pain from Fu Yuhan’s years-long unrequited love through the helplessness that couldn’t be spoken at this moment.

If only he could hug him.

Wen Yu had hugged Yang Fan and seen Yang Fan hug him, but the two of them rarely had such intimate physical contact—for no other reason than mutual respect after knowing each other’s sexual orientation.

Because of this, he couldn’t reach out his hand now.

“But is that all you wanted to say to me?”

After waiting for a while and not hearing Wen Yu speak, Fu Yuhan asked himself.

Wen Yu lifted his eyelids to look at him, his gaze seeming confused.

“…Never mind.” Fu Yuhan turned to leave.

“Don’t go,” Wen Yu grabbed his wrist and casually grabbed a topic, “You went to buy paint today, right? Where are the things? Didn’t we agree last time to store them at my place?”

“Left them at the studio… let go.”

“I won’t.” Wen Yu looked at him, “Go get them. I’m already here, let’s get them together and take them back.”

“…”

“Mm?”

“After getting them, don’t we still have to make a detour to your place?” Fu Yuhan turned his head and looked at him irritably, “Forget it, I already told the teacher I’d leave them for two days.”

Wen Yu stared at him without speaking, his upturned mouth corners gradually falling down, pressing into a straight line.

Smiles and politeness were like candy wrappers—peel away that outer shell, and Wen Yu’s stubbornness was no less than Fu Yuhan’s. Fu Yuhan looked at him for what might have been a full minute, and suddenly felt something collapse in his heart.

He could never harden his heart against friends he acknowledged.

Fu Yuhan took a deep breath and said softly: “Then tell me, what happened to you last night?”

Wen Yu was stunned.

“There are still people in this world who worry about you,” Fu Yuhan said with lowered eyes, his voice very light, like a weary traveler who had walked a long way, “Yang Fan was still asking me just now if I’d seen you, whether you were okay… look at yourself.”

Wen Yu’s gaze rippled gently like water. He seemed to have many things he wanted to say, but in the end, he didn’t say any of those questions he wanted to ask but didn’t dare.

He just smiled lightly and said: “Then will you go in and get the box? I’ll tell you when we get to my place.”

“…” Fu Yuhan tried to pull his hand back, “I should just go home.”

“Hey,” Wen Yu gripped his wrist tighter, saying helplessly, “You waited all night yesterday, but you can’t wait a few more minutes today? When we get back, I’ll definitely tell you everything.”

“…You know about that?”

“The neighbor auntie told me.”

“Well, I can see now,” Fu Yuhan said coldly, “you’re just asking for a beating.”

Wen Yu squinted his eyes and smiled roguishly.

Having no choice, Fu Yuhan had to bite the bullet and return to the art studio. All the students had left, and the teacher had already turned off the lights and gone into the inner room to rest. He was good-natured and didn’t say anything, but Fu Yuhan was so embarrassed he didn’t know where to put his hands. He picked up the large paint box and quickly said goodbye before leaving.

“Just this one box?” Wen Yu was waiting outside and immediately tried to take the box when they met.

“The other box has daily-use items, I left it there… no need, I’ll carry it myself.” Fu Yuhan avoided him, his expression displeased, “The teacher was already resting, and you still insisted I go back to get this. Couldn’t it wait until the weekend?”

“I… might have to learn driving on the weekend.” Wen Yu’s eyes flickered, “My dad told me to go.”

“Isn’t learning to drive a good thing?” Fu Yuhan said while walking, “Why do you sound unhappy about it?”

Wen Yu was silent for a few seconds. He had never talked about his father with others, so it felt a bit awkward to start.

“You promised to tell me everything.” Fu Yuhan reminded him, “If you don’t keep your word, I’m going home.”

 (advanced chapters available on kofi)