Who exactly is Zong Yuan?
Zhang Zhi’liang blocked Fu Xin, who had just come out of the restroom and was about to return to class. He kept a certain distance, lowered his voice, and said, “Fu Xin, let’s talk.”
Fu Xin wasn’t interested. “Class is about to start.”
He habitually looked at the clean white collar below Zhang Zhi’liang’s chin, but found it dull and shifted his gaze, only to meet Yang Fan’s eyes. He changed his tone, “Alright, what do you want to talk about?”
During class, the ringing of the bell woke Zong Yuan. The seat next to him was completely empty. Yang Fan turned around, gossiping, “Just now, Fu Xin and Zhang Zhi’liang left together. No one knows where they went. Zhang Zhi’liang was the one who approached Fu Xin first.”
Zong Yuan frowned. “Where did they go?”
He had told him not to get close to Zhang Zhi’liang.
Yang Fan shook his head and watched Zong Yuan walk out the back door, muttering, “Zong Yuan is acting like Fu Xin’s mom.”
He worries about everything.
Fu Xin followed Zhang Zhi’liang to the restroom. It was incredibly quiet now, with only the sound of trickling water. Fu Xin regretted it a bit; he felt that he could have spent the time looking at Zong Yuan instead. He was even worried that Zong Yuan might be angry.
Zhang Zhi’liang seemed uncomfortable. “Fu Xin, who exactly is Zong Yuan? Does he have a powerful background?”
Fu Xin’s voice remained flat, “I don’t know.”
Zhang Zhi’liang looked around to make sure no one else was there, then softened his tone, putting on the smile Fu Xin knew all too well, “Fu Xin, tell me.”
Fu Xin stepped back, avoiding his outstretched hand. “Don’t touch me.”
His expression was openly filled with disgust. Zhang Zhi’liang’s face darkened. “Aren’t you into me? Stop playing hard to get.”
He was half a head taller than Fu Xin and tried to forcefully grab his wrist, but Fu Xin easily slapped his hand away. Then, he frowned and wiped his palm.
This hand would soon hold Zong Yuan’s hand. It must not carry anyone else’s scent.
He couldn’t let anyone else benefit from it.
Zhang Zhi’liang was so enraged by Fu Xin’s actions that his expression twisted. He couldn’t understand—first He Xiu’xiu acted like this, and now this damned homosexual Fu Xin! It was bad enough that Fu Xin liked him, but where did he get the nerve to like someone else?
Fu Xin wiped his hand a few more times but couldn’t help it; he walked over to the sink and began washing his hands.
Zhang Zhi’liang slowly walked over beside him and muttered under his breath, “You need a good beating.”
Fu Xin’s hand paused mid-wash. He looked at Zhang Zhi’liang through the mirror, his dark eyes intense.
Zhang Zhi’liang, feeling a surge of twisted excitement, reached out to press Fu Xin’s head down, a brutal thrill rising within him. He imagined shoving Fu Xin’s head into the water, forcing the disgusting Fu Xin to kneel and beg for his mercy. If he took photos and posted them online, what would people think of Fu Xin? What kind of expression would Zong Yuan have—anger, pain?
The person Zong Yuan had been protecting all this time was nothing but a filthy wretch.
Before Zhang Zhi’liang’s hand could touch Fu Xin, something cold pressed against his abdomen.
Fu Xin was holding a small utility knife, his expression indifferent. The blade tip was exposed, quietly resting against Zhang Zhi’liang’s stomach. “Were you insulting me?”
He casually twirled the knife’s handle, patiently waiting for Zhang Zhi’liang’s response.
Zhang Zhi’liang placed his finger on the blade tip, trying to push the knife away. “How could I insult you, Fu Xin? I—ah!”
Fu Xin noticed the blood seeping from Zhang Zhi’liang’s cut and chuckled softly. “Did no one ever teach you not to touch sharp objects?”
Zhang Zhi’liang’s face stiffened and he forced a smile. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“Oh? Then who was it that needed a good beating?”
Zhang Zhi’liang had never seen such an aggressive side of Fu Xin before. He almost wanted to lash out in anger, but the cold blade kept reminding him of the danger. Humiliated, he muttered, “Me.”
Fu Xin seemed to understand the joy of taunting others and asked with interest, “Who? Speak louder.”
Zhang Zhi’liang growled in a low voice, “Fu Xin, you’re going too far.”
Fu Xin moved the utility knife an inch forward. Zhang Zhi’liang felt a sharp sting and glared at him with hatred, taking a deep breath before shouting louder, “Me!”
“I still can’t hear you.”
“Me!”
“And who are you?”
Zhang Zhi’liang gritted his teeth. “Zhang Zhi’liang.”
Just then, Zong Yuan, standing at the restroom entrance, overheard this. He quickly walked over, only to see Zhang Zhi’liang pressing closely against Fu Xin, completely blocking him at the sink.
A surge of overwhelming anger hit Zong Yuan like a wave. He stormed forward, yanked Zhang Zhi’liang away, and slammed him hard onto the ground, teetering on the edge of fury. “Who the hell gave you the courage?”
Then, he noticed the sparse bloodstains on Zhang Zhi’liang’s clothes and the small utility knife Fu Xin was leisurely retracting.
Fu Xin explained calmly, “He insulted me.”
Zhang Zhi’liang could no longer hold back his resentment. He looked at Zong Yuan and sneered, “Do you even know the real Fu Xin?”
Fu Xin looked down at him, but Zhang Zhi’liang seemed almost gleeful, eager to see Zong Yuan’s shocked expression. “How did I insult him? I just called this filthy gay a slut—”
Zong Yuan grabbed his collar and punched him hard in the face.
The fury inside Zong Yuan was almost tangible, burning away his reason. He kept punching Zhang Zhi’liang, aiming for the most painful spots without any concern for the consequences. “Say it again, you piece of shit! Come on, say it!”
Zhang Zhi’liang’s body was covered in blood, his eyes rolling back, on the verge of passing out.
Fu Xin’s heart suddenly stopped for a moment. He rushed forward, grabbing Zong Yuan’s waist and biting down hard on his shoulder. “Zong Yuan! Zong Yuan!”
“If you keep hitting him, he’s going to die!”
“Ahhh!”
A student who had come to the restroom screamed and ran out.
Zong Yuan looked on coldly, his face splattered with thick drops of blood. Fu Xin held his breath and, with trembling hands, checked Zhang Zhi’liang’s breathing. He let out a sigh of relief.
Zong Yuan said, “He won’t die.” He wiped his face and his hand came away covered in blood. He stared at it for a few seconds before walking over to the sink to seriously wash his hands and face.
0046’s voice was still shaking. “Z-Zong Yuan, you were terrifying just now.”
His eyes were red and his aura was one that wouldn’t settle until someone was dead.
Zong Yuan’s movements paused. “It won’t happen again.”
He hadn’t been this angry in a long time. The last time he lost control like this was because of his brother.
Fu Xin tightly hugged him from behind. “Zong Yuan…”
Zong Yuan gently pried his arms off. He turned around and pulled Fu Xin into an embrace. After a long silence, he finally said in a hoarse voice, “I’m sorry.”
Fu Xin clenched his clothes tightly, panicked. “Why are you apologizing?”
Zong Yuan didn’t respond. In the deafening silence, which almost drove Fu Xin crazy, Zong Yuan pulled out a piece of white jade that had been hanging around his neck for years. It was about the size of a thumb, attached to a black cord. He gently fastened it around Fu Xin’s neck. Fu Xin’s panic grew. Unable to control himself, he bit down hard on the bite mark he had just made on Zong Yuan’s shoulder. Zong Yuan let him bite until he tasted blood.
Fu Xin’s expression showed fear. Zong Yuan cupped his face and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Be good. Study hard and come find me in the capital.”
Fu Xin’s hands grasped Zong Yuan’s. “…”
Zong Yuan withdrew his hands calmly and walked out of the restroom.
Fu Xin felt a sudden sting in his nose. Before he could react, he rushed to follow.
Outside the restroom, a crowd had gathered.
School leaders stood at the front, blocking curious students from looking in.
The sound of an ambulance grew closer, mixed with police sirens and the sight of luxury cars, a scene Fu Xin had never seen before.
He stared blankly at the crowd.
Zong Yuan was surrounded by a group of men in finely tailored suits, some closer to him, others keeping a distance. Among them were faces familiar from local TV stations. Zong Yuan walked with his hands in his pockets, his expression indifferent.
Fu Xin wanted to follow, but the crowd was so thick that he couldn’t even move a few steps. The panic in his heart grew stronger, but he couldn’t even make out Zong Yuan’s expression.
Zong Yuan glanced at the car door that was being opened for him by one of the men around him. He turned to look back at the sea of people, but there were so many faces that he couldn’t recognize anyone.
Fu Xin watched as Zong Yuan turned away and got into the gleaming black sedan.
No.
Please, don’t leave.
Zong Yuan…
Someone bumped into Fu Xin, startling him. “Hey, are you okay?”
Fu Xin snapped out of it and realized his face was wet.
“Did you see that? Isn’t that XXX?”
“The person next to him looks familiar too.”
“What’s going on?”
Fu Xin suddenly remembered something and bolted toward the principal’s office.
The person who had bumped into him muttered, “What’s his problem?”
Fu Xin had never run this fast before. Panting heavily, he arrived, only to find the door to the principal’s office tightly locked.
In an instant, all the strength drained from Fu Xin’s body. He slumped against the corner of the wall and sat down on the ground, burying his head in his knees.
How far away was the capital?
Far enough that people like Fu Xin from this place both loved and feared it. Far enough that just hearing its name made it seem impossible to imagine surviving in that city.
How could someone even live there?
There’s no money.
It was so far away that, in the past, Fu Xin had never even considered the idea of going there.
When Fu Dongqiang came over to deliver some reports, he saw Fu Xin sitting like that. He hurried over, cautiously asking, “Son, what’s wrong?”
Fu Xin remained silent, completely lost in his own world.
Fu Dongqiang didn’t dare say much more. He sat down beside Fu Xin, watching the sky gradually darken. Even like this, he felt a long-lost sense of peace.
Spending time with his son… He regretted that he only now understood the value of it.
Fu Xin finally spoke, his voice low, as if talking to himself, but also seeking the opinion of the person next to him. “He’s gone. He might not come back.”
Fu Dongqiang asked, “Who’s gone?”
Fu Xin looked up at the sky. Though it wasn’t fully dark yet, the mischievous moon had already begun to reveal a faint white crescent.
He smiled and turned to look at Fu Dongqiang, his eyes seemingly glowing. “Dad, I want to get into a university in the capital.”
Fu Dongqiang’s breath hitched and he grinned foolishly. “Good, good, good.”
He repeated the word three times.
Fu Xin gazed at the barely visible crescent moon, the corners of his lips slowly curling upwards. He pulled out the white jade from around his neck, kissed it gently, and thought, Zong Yuan, wait for me to come find you.
You can’t escape.
Zong Yuan sat in the break room at the station, surrounded by people constantly checking on him, offering warm tea and words of comfort. Zong Yuan, however, sat sideways, staring blankly at the couch.
Someone thought he was worried and tried to reassure him, “It’s fine. That boy only has minor injuries. It looks scary, but it’s nothing serious. It’ll be handled easily.”
Zong Yuan finally spoke, “Find a way to transfer He Xiu’xiu from Class 1 of Senior Year 3 at No.1 High School, along with this person.”
He suppressed the words he most wanted to say. “I wasn’t thinking clearly back then. I was indeed wrong. Don’t hesitate to spend money. There was also another male student who may have been frightened by me. Compensate him as well.”
The person assigned by Zong Yuan’s father nodded and responded with a quick, “Understood.”
