CFHE Chapter 74.3

“Some small things.” Wen Yu said.

Fu Yuhan raised an eyebrow.

Being secretive about harmless matters always gave Fu Yuhan a subtle sense of displeasure, but Wen Yu had already promised during the day that he would change this habit, so he decided to be patient.

After turning the corner, there were more students on the roadside again. Late at night with heavy coursework, brain cells consumed enormously, students’ stomachs got hungry easily. At this time, every shop selling snacks and meals on the street was crowded with quite a few people.

They walked forward for a while before finally seeing that fragrant roasted sweet potato stand.

Five people were in line.

“Wait here for a moment.” Wen Yu said, walking toward the adjacent shop, “I’ll buy something and come right back.”

Fu Yuhan opened his mouth but didn’t call out to him.

The place he walked to was a cold, empty flower shop.

It was past ten o’clock, and it was winter—normal flower shops would have closed long ago, but this shop was still open.

Fu Yuhan wasn’t someone who was overly presumptuous, but aside from Wen Yu being bored enough to buy him a bouquet of roses late on Valentine’s night, he really couldn’t think of a reasonable reason to go to a flower shop.

Fortunately, Wen Yu came out of the shop soon, carrying a simple bunch of white lilies.

“What did you buy that for?” Fu Yuhan stared at the bouquet.

Wen Yu glanced at him and pressed his lips together: “You’ll know in a bit.”

His expression was very calm, without any difficulty, hesitation, or sadness, so that Fu Yuhan couldn’t figure anything out after looking for a long time.

“…It’s not for me, is it?” He lowered his voice.

“No,” Wen Yu shook his head and glanced at him again, “or do you like flowers?”

Fu Yuhan expressed his rejection with a shudder.

He liked growing flowers and was willing to travel far to see a mountain full of spring colors, but he had no interest in these gift flowers that would wither in a few days.

Wen Yu rarely refrained from teasing him a couple of times, and didn’t wickedly suggest buying another bouquet for him.

Fu Yuhan bought a huge sweet potato and walked back holding it. Passing the flower shop, he curiously glanced inside: “Speaking of which, this shop doesn’t close this late?”

“Mm, one night I passed by here and found it wasn’t closed, so I went in to ask.” Wen Yu smiled, “The owner said his family has mines, opening the shop is just a hobby, and when he’s in a good mood he keeps it open longer.”

“Then how did you know he’d be open today?”

“Because today is Valentine’s Day.” Wen Yu said, “The owner said flower shops should stay open for days like this.”

“The shop owner sounds quite interesting…” Fu Yuhan said, glancing toward Wen Yu. Under the streetlight, the other’s profile was deep with distinct features, his eyes partially immersed in shadows cast by his bangs and brow bone, inexplicably adding several degrees of gloominess.

He didn’t say much more.

Fu Yuhan looked at him for a while and suddenly had a strange intuition—

Wen Yu seemed to be in a not-so-good mood.

He thought back over everything that had happened at school today but couldn’t figure out why, so his gaze naturally fell on that bouquet of lilies.

“Wen Yu.”

“Mm?”

Wen Yu turned his head and happened to see Fu Yuhan lift his eyelids, those distinct black and white eyes looking at him intently, with only him in those eyes.

He really liked seeing Fu Yuhan look at him like this, so he smiled: “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to tell you, when I was taking exams away from home, I thought of you and brought back quite a few local specialties for you.” Fu Yuhan said, “They were too heavy, I didn’t want to drag a suitcase to school.”

“Should I come to your house this weekend to get them?”

Fu Yuhan nodded.

Wen Yu’s complexion finally looked a bit better, and he was satisfied.

Wen Yu’s house wasn’t far. Fu Yuhan entered holding his roasted sweet potato, put down his backpack, took off his coat, and familiarly went into the kitchen to find a bowl. He broke the sweet potato into two pieces and placed them in it, then went to check the rice cooker.

The rice cooker was keeping warm a pot of codonopsis and black chicken soup. He picked out a few pieces of meat, served two bowls, and carried them to the living room.

“Yu-ge?”

Fu Yuhan came out of the kitchen and saw Wen Yu’s coat, backpack, his art case, art bag… but didn’t see Wen Yu himself.

“Where is he…”

He said this while placing the soup bowls on the dining table and walking toward the bedroom: “Wen Yu?”

The small door next door that had always been locked suddenly opened, and Wen Yu poked his head out.

Fu Yuhan was startled: “Yu-ge?”

Wen Yu lowered his eyes and thought, then looked up: “During the day I wanted to explain something to you, but I didn’t know how to say it.”

“Explain what?”

“Explain why I… why I make you so disgusted.” Wen Yu smiled.

“When did I ever feel disgusted by you?” Fu Yuhan was puzzled.

Wen Yu shook his head: “I mean, the matter of ‘not trusting you.'”

Fu Yuhan looked at him.

“Come in.” Wen Yu beckoned to him with his finger and stepped back a little.

As his body moved aside, the small door revealed a dark gap, like Pandora’s box, waiting for the next unfortunate soul to enter.

Fu Yuhan’s gaze trembled slightly.

This was Wen Yu’s secret.

He thought for two seconds, then without further hesitation, walked over and pushed open that door—

“Why aren’t the lights on?”

The moment he entered, Fu Yuhan couldn’t see anything clearly, only hearing Wen Yu say by the door: “There’s no main light installed here.”

“What about small lights?”

“Small lights… there are some,” Wen Yu paused, “wait a moment.”

Wen Yu had once described this room as “a dream.”

Fu Yuhan had seen him bring the broken Strike Freedom Gundam in here, and had also seen him take out a laptop that no one else had seen, so Fu Yuhan had always thought this was his “toy room.”

In fact, it wasn’t much different from a toy room—just as his eyes were about to adjust to the indoor darkness, Wen Yu walked to a corner and turned on a small lamp, allowing Fu Yuhan to see the ball pit that occupied almost half the room in front of him.

On the surrounding shelves, figurines, projectors, gaming consoles of various brands, televisions, desktop computers, laptops, old movie discs… filled this small secondary bedroom to the brim.

A narrow passage was left between several display shelves, leading to the other side of the room.

That small half was empty.

A low table sat on the floor, and the lamp Wen Yu had turned on was on this low table—a desk lamp used for homework.

A half-used pack of tissues was casually placed on the table, clearly showing that the room’s owner often came in here. That bouquet of white lilies was casually placed on the table, leaning against the wall.

And on the wall behind that low table hung a floor-to-ceiling large photograph.

Full color, half-body, front-facing—a woman smiling gently at the world.

For a moment Fu Yuhan thought he had hung up a Mona Lisa.

But he quickly realized it wasn’t. This woman bore five or six points of resemblance to Fang Wanjing, but had a more elegant temperament.

He had a vague guess.

“This is…”

“My mom.” Wen Yu looked up and said calmly, “My birth mother.”

Fu Yuhan opened his mouth.

“Today is her death anniversary.” Wen Yu smiled, “I brought my boyfriend to meet her.”

The room fell silent.

“She died nine years ago, when I was ten, in third grade. That day was Valentine’s Day. She had endured two years in a hospital bed but finally couldn’t hold on. Less than three months after she died, Wen Ziming brought home a woman who looked very much like her.” Wen Yu said flatly, “When she was alive, she told me that she and Wen Ziming were soulmates, a match made in heaven, and that I should understand the occasional ruthlessness this father showed, saying it was all superficial, all misunderstandings.”

He paused, “But I really can’t understand what kind of soulmate brings someone home after just three months.”

Fu Yuhan walked toward him.

“Xiao Han, to be honest, before I discovered I had fallen for you, I actually…”

He didn’t believe in any damn love at all. Valentine’s Day, this death anniversary, was like a mockery.

Humans were just base sensual animals, pulled by hormones into being the filthiest puppets.

He had always thought this way.

Until one day, someone coldly and indifferently mocked him for “living too fake.”

Wen Yu thought he might have been waiting for someone to expose him for far, far too long.

Fu Yuhan opened his arms and hugged him tightly.

“Yu-ge,” he said, “if you want to cry, then cry. It’s just the two of us here.”

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