QTEBS Chapter 10

Fu Dongqiang received some news on the third day of idling around on the street.

He used to work in an administrative position, but seven or eight years of decadence had caused him to forget most of what he knew. Alcohol had also drained his body, to the point where, even if he sat still, he couldn’t engage in physical activity for half an hour without becoming breathless.

He deeply felt the sting of the term “waste” that someone had called him. He recognized even more how Fu Xin had raised himself and had been burdened by him all these years.

This news came to him by coincidence.

On a wall he often passed by, there was a notice: XX First Senior High School was recruiting for a school accountant. Fu Dongqiang felt dazed, vaguely thinking that his son, Fu Xin, must be attending this high school.

In his younger days, he had worked as an accountant.

Taking a few deep breaths, Fu Dongqiang controlled his trembling hands, gently tearing off the still clean paper.

The interview was scheduled for that afternoon. He hurried back home, planning to tidy himself up, each step filled with a newfound hope.

During lunch, besides Zong Yuan, in addition to Fu Xin, there were also Yang Fan and three others.

Yang Fan glanced at Fu Xin several times, puzzled. “A hairstyle can make such a difference? I still can’t get used to it from yesterday to now.”

Fu Xin didn’t respond.

Ignoring him, Yang Fan had grown accustomed to this over the past few days. It wasn’t just him; Fatty and the others had figured it out too. Fu Xin was only lively when facing Zong Yuan. Though he didn’t speak much on other occasions, he was quite easy to get along with. At least when they talked, he listened attentively, making him suitable as a confidant. They had all forgotten how they used to perceive Fu Xin.

They hadn’t noticed that he liked Zhang Zhi’liang.

Fu Xin hadn’t approached Zhang Zhi’liang for a chat, hadn’t fixated on him with his gaze, and hadn’t shown any signs of shyness or infatuation at all.

The more they interacted, the more they felt that Zong Yuan was right: Fu Xin only admired Zhang Zhi’liang for his academic excellence but had been maliciously misunderstood as having romantic feelings for him, suffering an undeserved grievance.

Because of this, the group felt guilty towards Fu Xin and tried to take care of him as much as possible.

Zong Yuan and the others found a place to sit. The seat next to Zong Yuan was usually left for Fu Xin, and Yang Fan and the others tacitly gave up their spots. However, just as Fu Xin was about to sit down with his meal, a girl carrying a fragrant aura sat down first.

She was beautiful, wearing light makeup, and was the same girl who had confessed in class last time but was rejected.

Yang Fan and the others, instead of enjoying the show, instinctively turned to watch Fu Xin.

Fu Xin seemed unchanged; his expression was calm as he redirected himself to sit next to Dong Zi.

The girl spoke with a tone of entitlement, “Zong Yuan, I’ve thought it through. Even though you rejected me last time, I won’t give up.”

Zong Yuan hated being pestered. He responded indifferently, “Who said you could sit here?”

The girl retorted, “Why can’t I sit here?”

She looked at Zong Yuan, where youthful vigor and the first hints of male charm merged perfectly, creating an irresistible allure for the young boys and girls around.

Her voice carried an authoritative tone. “Zong Yuan, I’m not bad-looking either, you—”

A bowl of hot soup splashed from head to toe.

The soup was only warm, not scalding, but the thick, salty liquid hitting her skin made the girl want to scream.

She froze for a moment. “Ah!”

Fu Xin quickly walked over, gripping her wrist firmly and pulling her up with force. “Sorry, classmate, my hand slipped.”

Although he wore an apologetic smile, his gaze was icy, cold and indifferent as if he had glass eyes. The girl’s curse got stuck in her throat, a chill ran down her back. She reflexively swatted Fu Xin’s hand away, as if chased by a feral dog, panic-stricken as she fled the cafeteria.

Fu Xin covered his hand, which had turned bright red from the slap, his head bowed, expression hard to discern, yet exuding a pitiful vibe.

Zong Yuan frowned, stepping in front of him with a serious expression. “Are you okay?”

Whether it was said that he was cold-hearted or heartless, he didn’t care at all about the girl who had just been doused in soup but was concerned for Fu Xin, whose hand had only been slapped.

He knew that the soup was never hot enough to burn anyone.

Fu Xin shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m fine.”

Zong Yuan grasped his wrist and Fu Xin obediently let him pull it out.

The back of his hand was bright red, with distinct fingerprints visible, indicating just how much strength the girl had used.

Zong Yuan’s brow furrowed. “Still say it doesn’t hurt?”

Fu Xin’s face inexplicably turned slightly crimson. “It really doesn’t hurt.”

Zong Yuan brought Fu Xin’s hand to his lips, blowing gently, almost kissing the red, swollen skin. Fu Xin watched him, a momentary obsession flickering in his eyes before quickly retracting it, reluctantly shifting his gaze away from Zong Yuan.

Yang Fan and a few others gathered around, concerned. “Are you okay? How’s that girl doing?”

Zong Yuan took out his wallet and casually pulled out a few large bills. “Yang Fan, go check if that girl is alright. If she’s hurt, take her to the hospital. Whatever you say, don’t involve me. I don’t want to be tangled up with her in the future. Here’s some money; if it’s not enough, let me know.”

Yang Fan took the cash, grinning as he asked, “What about you?”

Fu Xin’s dark eyes were contemplative as he stared at the cash in Yang Fan’s hand.

Zong Yuan tugged on Fu Xin’s collar. “I’ll take him to wash with cold water.”

Fu Xin’s hand wasn’t hurt; it was just a slap from a girl. Compared to the times he had been beaten before, it was a mere trifle.

However, when Zong Yuan sprayed cold water on him, he involuntarily showed a pained expression.

Zong Yuan mocked him. “So fragile.” Yet his movements were incredibly gentle as he wiped the droplets from Fu Xin’s hand. Fu Xin’s brow twitched, a mix of shyness and excitement. “Can you blow on it for me?”

Zong Yuan snorted, directly lifting his hand, leaning slightly, and pressing his thin lips against that patch of skin. “A kiss—does it have ten times the effect of blowing?”

The redness on the back of Fu Xin’s hand had gradually faded, yet he inexplicably felt that patch of skin suddenly heating up, astonishingly hot. His fingers curled uncontrollably, leaving a tingling sensation in Zong Yuan’s hand.

Zong Yuan grasped his fingers. “Don’t move.”

Fu Xin’s fingers trembled slightly and Zong Yuan thought he was in pain. Only Fu Xin knew he was excited—so excited, so excited.

If Zong Yuan weren’t here, he would have probably been hugging that hand, lost in the blissful intimacy of the moment.

“Zong Yuan,” Fu Xin concealed his greedy thoughts but couldn’t help but let out a small request, “Can you kiss it again?”

Zong Yuan raised an eyebrow, gentlemanly bending down once more. Fu Xin’s heart raced faster, his expectant eyes not blinking. But when Zong Yuan was about a centimeter away from the back of his hand, he deliberately paused. Fu Xin anxiously waited for a second. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

Zong Yuan slightly lifted his head, a wicked smile gradually appearing on his handsome face. “Not kissing.”

Fu Xin: “…”

What had just been pretend disappointment was now real disappointment.

When Fu Dongqiang walked out of the principal’s office, his mind was still blank. Without asking anything about the job itself, he had simply answered a few questions about his family and got the position.

He pinched his thigh several times—painful, really painful.

It wasn’t a dream.

He had actually gotten a school accounting job so easily.

Fu Dongqiang felt like he could spin in circles to express his joy, but he didn’t know how to move his hands and feet.

When he first entered the school, it felt unfamiliar, but now, as he walked out, he felt a sense of warmth.

He took a few steps and just happened to see two girls chatting in a corner, their fragmented words carried by the wind to his ears. “That’s Fu Xin.” “Which Saturday?” “Xiu’xiu said.” “Okay.”

Fu Dongqiang hid behind a tree. His son—what Saturday?

The conversation continued. “I heard that he—” “Goodness, he likes Zhang—”

The voices were muffled and Fu Dongqiang had a hunch. It seemed to be something about young love between kids. Hahaha, his son was doing well and quite popular!

When Zong Yuan and the others returned to the classroom from the cafeteria, they spotted Fu Dongqiang standing under a tree, lost in thought.

Fu Xin came to an abrupt halt, his expression cooling. He immediately turned around, tugging at Zong Yuan’s clothes. “Let’s not go this way.”

But Fu Dongqiang had already spotted him, looking cheerful. “Fu Xin!”

Zong Yuan kept his mouth shut, maintaining an aloof expression.

Fu Xin pressed his lips together, resembling a hedgehog bristling with quills. “What are you doing at school?”

Fu Dongqiang laughed heartily. “I found a job—right at your school. From now on, I’ll work hard. Son, I promise to make it up to you.”

He was very enthusiastic. “Have you eaten yet?” He glanced at the expressionless Zong Yuan and reached out to pat his shoulder. “Have you eaten, classmate? Thank you for looking after our family.”

“Enough.”

Fu Xin suddenly interrupted Fu Dongqiang’s words as if he had been provoked, pulling Zong Yuan behind him. He glared at Fu Dongqiang’s hand, his attitude fierce. “Don’t touch him.”

Fu Dongqiang had never faced such an angry and wary gaze.

He was momentarily stunned. “You—”

Fu Xin took a few deep breaths to regain his composure, averting his gaze. “You can find whatever job you want, but don’t disturb me.”

He kept Zong Yuan closely guarded behind him, even though he was clearly more than a head shorter than Zong Yuan, holding on tightly as if protecting his food.

Zong Yuan reached out from behind him, wrapping an arm around Fu Xin’s shoulder. “Let’s go back to class.”

Fu Dongqiang was still mired in guilt and embarrassment, feeling utterly bewildered.

That voice—why did it sound so familiar?

He turned to follow the tall classmate beside Fu Xin. Zong Yuan, noticing his gaze, slightly tilted his head and gave him a meaningful smile.

At that moment, Fu Dongqiang broke out in a cold sweat, shivering. This person—no, something was off.

---