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SIIL Chapter 60 Extra 1

1.

Chi Yu and Fu Zhi’an had a fight.

The argument started when, during Chi Yu’s graduation ceremony, Fu Zhi’an silently gifted him a very expensive sports car but refused to explain where the money came from. Since Fu Zhi’an was studying medicine, Chi Yu pondered over it and finally came up with a plausible explanation.

The young man, dressed in his graduation gown, sat in the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the steering wheel’s iconic prancing horse emblem. With a serious tone, he asked, “Fu Zhi’an.”

“Did you get involved in some organ trafficking?”

Chi Yu’s suspicion wasn’t without reason. A couple of days ago, he had just watched an American movie about doctors who steal patients’ organs during surgery. To Chi Yu, sudden wealth usually comes from winning the lottery, but that wasn’t something Fu Zhi’an would do.

With his sharp mind, Fu Zhi’an wasn’t the type to rely on luck. Everything he had achieved up to this point was a result of his hard work.

Fu Zhi’an didn’t answer right away. Instead, he slowly reached out and moved the tassel on Chi Yu’s graduation cap to the side. He then said softly, “The photographer at the graduation ceremony spent the longest time taking your pictures.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“I said,” Fu Zhi’an let go of the tassel, leaned back in his seat, and stared at Chi Yu’s face for a long moment before saying, “If you don’t drive soon, we’ll have to pay an extra fifteen dollars for parking.”

Chi Yu wasn’t as easy to fool as he used to be, Fu Zhi’an thought.

Chi Yu was persistent yet straightforward, with no room for subtleties—what you see is what you get. When they were in the U.S., they’d occasionally argue, like about whether the movie Batman v Superman was any good, or when exactly Fu Zhi’an started liking him.

In the past, Fu Zhi’an could brush off these arguments with a few words, but now Chi Yu was staring at him with those deep, dark eyes, waiting for answers.

The car’s air conditioning was on full blast, causing the black tassel to sway in the breeze. Fu Zhi’an leaned forward, catching the moving tassel in his hand.

“Congratulations on graduating,” Fu Zhi’an’s gaze dropped to Chi Yu’s tightly pressed lips. As his grip on the tassel loosened, he slid his hand to the back of Chi Yu’s cool neck and slowly leaned in. Fu Zhi’an tilted his head, their noses brushed together, and he planted a kiss on Chi Yu’s chin.

Chi Yu’s dry, soft lips parted slightly, and just before Fu Zhi’an could kiss him again, Chi Yu spoke.

“Fu Zhi’an.” Chi Yu’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he stiffened. Fu Zhi’an remained in the same position, his forehead brushed by the tassel blown by the air conditioning. After letting out a sigh, he sat up straight.

Seeing Chi Yu’s serious expression made Fu Zhi’an want to laugh. Chi Yu never put much effort into his studies, but he was always so persistent about the strangest things.

But Chi Yu’s time in college hadn’t been entirely wasted. At least now, Chi Yu knew that looking at him with that expression would make Fu Zhi’an surrender.

2.

Chi Yu stared at the thick stack of printed papers on the coffee table, feeling a bit overwhelmed. There was so much of it that he eventually found a document in Chinese among the piles of English materials. After skimming through it, he saw that it was filled with dense medical terminology. He put it back on the table, crossed his arms, and said sternly, “You explain it. I’m too lazy to read.”

Fu Zhi’an spoke slowly, but Chi Yu didn’t understand a word of it. Surrounded by all the medical jargon, Chi Yu managed to catch one piece of information.

“When did you start investing in a company?”

“In my sophomore year,” Fu Zhi’an bent down to organize the materials Chi Yu had messed up. “There was a project between a domestic company and the school. They were short on funds, so I invested my entire scholarship.”

“So now that company is going public?”

“Not quite,” Fu Zhi’an stood in front of him, smiling down at him. “They just secured a few big deals.”

Chi Yu’s earlier defensive posture softened considerably, and his arms fell limply onto the couch. His gaze was a bit lost, and his tone uncertain, “When did you negotiate those deals?”

“During the few weeks when you had your finals,” Fu Zhi’an’s voice was light, as if he hadn’t been the one burning the midnight oil helping Chi Yu study during those weeks. Seeing that Chi Yu remained silent for a long time, Fu Zhi’an sat down beside him, and the soft couch cushions sank under his weight.

Fu Zhi’an asked gently, “What’s wrong?” But Chi Yu just shook his head, and then, in a sulky manner, he clenched his fist and weakly punched Fu Zhi’an’s open palm.

What else could he do? After all, Fu Zhi’an had already spent a fortune on a sports car for him.

3.

Not long after Fu Zhi’an arrived in the U.S., they moved out of Tevis’s house.

Before they left, Tevis stood at the front door, tears in his eyes, and hugged Chi Yu for a long time. His freshly cut hair prickled Chi Yu, who kept trying to pull away. In the end, it was Fu Zhi’an, with a dark look, who finally separated them.

Li Che walked them down the hill, and even after all their luggage was packed into the trunk, he took his time speaking. “I won’t tell your dad that you’ve moved out.”

“So please,” Li Che paused, “Take care of yourselves and don’t cause me any trouble.”

Li Che had never been one to speak kindly, but luckily, neither was Chi Yu.

Fu Zhi’an started the car, and Chi Yu rolled down the window, stuck his head out, and cheerfully yelled, “Little brat! Your dad’s leaving, you know!” Seeing Li Che’s face darken, Chi Yu grinned widely, showing off most of his teeth. But before he could finish his sentence, Fu Zhi’an grabbed him by the neck and pulled him back inside.

“Can you use your brain when you insult someone?” Fu Zhi’an retracted his hand and straightened the steering wheel. “If he’s the brat and you’re his dad, then what does that make you?”

Chi Yu didn’t respond. He turned his head to the side, and after a long pause, he muttered under his breath, “It makes me your grandpa.”

4.

Living together wasn’t always easy. Despite Fu Zhi’an’s sharp mind, it didn’t help much with everyday tasks. For example, when it came to toasting bread without burning it, Fu Zhi’an could only offer theoretical advice.

Chi Yu didn’t bother debating the finer points of temperature and dough fermentation with him. Instead, he went back to the bedroom, trying to find a simpler answer on Baidu.

He did find the answer, but he also found a deleted email.

It was an offer from a pharmaceutical company, written simply but with immense appeal.

Words like shares, dividends, and paid leave stood out.

The light from the laptop screen illuminated Chi Yu’s face, making his features appear even sharper. Holding the laptop, he walked out of the bedroom. Fu Zhi’an had his back to him, and as if hearing Chi Yu’s footsteps, he started to speak while turning around, “Isn’t it just like I said…”

The screen was facing Fu Zhi’an, displaying the recently deleted email from the pharmaceutical company he had invested in.

“Why didn’t you discuss this with me?” Chi Yu closed the laptop, standing barefoot on the floor.

“What’s there to discuss?” Fu Zhi’an turned around with a smile, casually peeling off the burnt edges of the toast. “I didn’t want to go.”

Chi Yu approached him, grabbing the hem of Fu Zhi’an’s shirt with enough force to make him turn around.

“Do you really want to be a doctor?”

Fu Zhi’an’s voice was soft, “Yes.”

5.

Chi Yu disappeared early in the morning.

Fu Zhi’an sat on the bed, his left hand resting beside him. The soft bedsheet felt cold, with no warmth left behind.

Except for a payment reminder, there were no other messages or calls on his phone. Fu Zhi’an dialed Chi Yu’s number, but after a few rings, he was met with an automated message.

Chi Yu didn’t answer, likely still sulking from yesterday’s argument. Fu Zhi’an wasn’t too worried; after all, no matter how late Chi Yu stayed out, he always came home. So Fu Zhi’an went about his day—attending classes, doing experiments—and finally feigned illness during a professor’s Q&A session so he could drive home early.

But the house was empty.

Fu Zhi’an glanced at the clock; it was only 7:50 PM, not too late. With a group project still needing to be completed, Fu Zhi’an grabbed a stool and sat by the front door, opened his laptop, and joined the group’s video call.

Everyone in the group noticed that Fu Zhi’an was distracted. His gaze was often unfocused, his fingers barely tapping the keyboard, and whenever someone asked for his input, there was a brief pause before he mumbled his agreement.

This continued until 8:20 PM, when the sound of footsteps approached. Fu Zhi’an looked up as the door creaked open.

He snapped his laptop shut and quickly moved forward, cornering Chi Yu in the doorway.

Chi Yu opened his mouth to say something, but Fu Zhi’an suddenly leaned in close, grabbed the doorknob, and slammed the door shut. With an expressionless face, Fu Zhi’an looked down at him and said flatly, “It’s 8:23 PM.”

“You’ve been out for almost ten hours.”

“And you didn’t answer my calls.”

When Chi Yu didn’t respond, Fu Zhi’an felt a throbbing at his temples. He grabbed Chi Yu’s arm, about to scold him, but then saw Chi Yu wince in pain.

Instinctively, Fu Zhi’an loosened his grip and stepped back. His right hand, which had just grabbed Chi Yu’s arm, now hung awkwardly in the air.

“I went for a check-up.” Chi Yu shoved a white folder into Fu Zhi’an’s arms, rubbing his left arm and cursing under his breath, “Damn, they took so much of my blood.”

“Are you feeling unwell?” Fu Zhi’an looked down and flipped through the folder. His fingers moved quickly, not missing a single word.

“Just a bit anemic.” Chi Yu snatched the folder back from Fu Zhi’an, flipped through a few pages, and handed it back.

“Fu Zhi’an, my heart’s fine.”

“So,” Chi Yu’s eyes sparkled with a grin, showing his neat white teeth, “Go do what you love.”

6.

That night, Chi Yu talked a lot. Fu Zhi’an sat on the carpet, listening to the person across from him complain as if he were filing a grievance.

He said many things, but Fu Zhi’an only remembered one. Chi Yu scooted closer, his knees touching Fu Zhi’an’s foot.

“I’m not an idiot.”

“You don’t even like studying medicine. You’re always yawning when you do your assignments.”

“And I don’t like it when you dissect mice with a scalpel either.” Chi Yu pouted, poking Fu Zhi’an’s knee with two fingers.

Fu Zhi’an grabbed Chi Yu’s wrist and, after a moment of thought, said, “It’s not that I don’t like studying medicine.”

Chi Yu quickly retorted, grabbing Fu Zhi’an’s ring finger and lifting his chin, “Bullshit.”

Suddenly, the space between them grew quiet. A page of the folder on the floor curled up, revealing the red mark on Chi Yu’s forearm left by the tourniquet during the blood draw.

“And even if something were wrong with me.”

“Do you think I’d let you cut me open?” Chi Yu wrinkled his nose in distaste. “You’d slice my belly open, and blood would gush out like a fountain. You’d see my heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys, all of it.”

“No way.”

Fu Zhi’an lowered his head, blinking slowly. His thumb traced the indentation on Chi Yu’s wrist, the uneven skin beneath it.

“Surgery wouldn’t reveal all that. It would just be a small incision.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chi Yu replied impatiently, smacking his lips. “You’re the expert, happy now?”


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