CFHE Chapter 47

Wen Yu asked twice, but Fu Yuhan didn’t tell him what it was.

 

Actually, Wen Yu didn’t like this feeling of having the answer in someone else’s hands and being led by the nose, but this time he was suddenly a bit expectant—

 

He was always the one giving things to others. Few people specifically gave him anything, because Young Master Wen really didn’t lack much materially.

 

This experience was very novel.

 

“Fine.” His eyes moved and he smiled. “Then I’ll wait.”

 

However, there was no movement from Fu Yuhan’s side.

 

The weekend quickly passed, followed by Monday and Tuesday. Wen Yu waited until the day before midterm exams and didn’t receive anything, but saw Fu Yuhan not reviewing and instead drawing on a blank piece of paper during break time.

 

The drawing wasn’t the figure sketches Fu Yuhan usually drew for exam preparation, but… something like a draft for children’s book illustrations.

 

“Is this a new job you took?” Wen Yu leaned over to look.

 

“No.” Fu Yuhan said. “This is Zhou Xiangyan’s art homework.”

 

“…” Wen Yu said speechlessly, “You’re really good to this ‘little brother’? Isn’t the exam tomorrow?”

 

“But these are two different things.” Fu Yuhan said while adding shadows. “I asked him to help me with something, so of course I need to give him some ‘payment.'”

 

“The payment is helping him with art homework the day before midterms?”

 

Fu Yuhan chuckled: “Why do I feel like your temper is getting worse lately?”

 

Wen Yu stopped talking.

 

It was true—he had noticed it himself. Actually his temper wasn’t different from before, still just as bad, but lately his “smiling mask” was becoming harder and harder to maintain.

 

This wasn’t good. It didn’t meet his father’s requirement to “be humble and polite to people,” but Wen Yu couldn’t control it very well.

 

Maybe subconsciously he didn’t want to control it either.

 

While they were talking, a male student walked over from the other end of the classroom with some papers and said to Fu Yuhan: “Brother Fu, then I’ll trouble you with this?”

 

“Mm.” Fu Yuhan didn’t even lift his eyelids, jerking his chin up. “Put it on my desk, I’ll write it later—don’t forget what I asked you to do either.”

 

“I won’t, I won’t.” The boy smiled obsequiously. “Thank you, Brother Fu.”

 

Wen Yu watched coldly. After the person left, he asked coolly: “What about this time? Another ‘transaction’?”

 

Fu Yuhan nodded lightly.

 

“You’re really free.” Wen Yu snorted softly and muttered under his breath, “I shouldn’t have helped you write those notes…”

 

Fu Yuhan didn’t hear the second half clearly, only catching the words “notes.”

 

These past few days, Wen Yu had finished writing notes for another subject to “benefit the masses,” with two subjects remaining: Chinese and Biology. No one was pushing for Chinese notes, but a group of people were humbly waiting for Master Wen’s biology notes. Fang Jiayuan had come to ask three times on behalf of the masses, and Wen Yu always said “not finished yet.”

 

So hearing these words, Fu Yuhan naturally assumed it was about this and casually asked: “What notes? Did you finish your biology notes?”

 

Wen Yu stuffed the biology notebook that was already on his desk back into his bag and said irritably: “No.”

 

Why give notes to someone who was slacking off before exams?

 

Fu Yuhan didn’t notice his anger, said “oh,” and focused on drawing.

 

Wen Yu was too lazy to pay attention to him.

 

After two classes, Fu Yuhan finished the line drawing. He didn’t plan to continue coloring and went out with the drawing. When he came back, he took out the papers that boy had given him.

 

Wen Yu just felt a flash of pink in his peripheral vision. He instinctively glanced over and saw Fu Yuhan holding a white paper covered in chicken scratch writing in one hand and two pink letter papers in the other.

 

The letter papers were scented with flowers, while the article on the white paper used passionate language.

 

It was a love letter.

 

And what Fu Yuhan had to do was transcribe that love letter onto the stationery.

 

His handwriting was obviously much better than the original draft. Although in Wen Yu’s view, writing love letters or having someone else copy love letters was full of issues, looking at Fu Yuhan’s handwriting, he could generally understand it.

 

The only thing he couldn’t understand was why Fu Yuhan had to do this the day before the exam.

 

Wen Yu wanted to ask, but felt he was being too nosy, so he held back and endured it for a whole day.

 

Until after school, when he brought back packed dinner from home—

 

These past few days Fu Yuhan hadn’t gone home. After school, the classroom door wasn’t locked. Wen Yu pushed the door open as usual, saw no one, and instinctively thought Fu Yuhan had gone to the bathroom.

 

However, when he walked to the desk, he found a note on it.

 

Wen Yu had watched Fu Yuhan copy love letters for someone else for half the lunch break like a madman, so he recognized whose handwriting the note was at a glance.

 

[I have something to do and went out, will be back soon. Eat dinner first, don’t wait for me.]

 

Wen Yu stared at the note for a while, his gaze dropping, his expression unclear.

 

Was it troublesome to bring Fu Yuhan food every day?

 

Troublesome, but this way someone would eat dinner with him.

 

This person eating with him… anyone would do, it didn’t have to be Fu Yuhan.

 

Right, it didn’t.

 

Anyone could accompany him, and of course eating alone was fine too.

 

Eating was fine, not eating was also fine.

 

Wen Yu silently carried the lunch box to the trash can and thought for a minute.

 

He was the only one in the classroom.

 

The teaching building was very quiet, only occasionally hearing some human activity. Garden lights lit up in the distance as night gradually fell.

 

Late October, it was getting dark earlier and earlier, and the weather was starting to turn cool. Classmates would add a long-sleeved layer over their short-sleeved school uniforms to combat the temperature drop during morning and evening hours.

 

The window was open, and a gust of wind blew through. Wen Yu thought for a moment, carried the lunch box back to place on the desk, and pulled on the jacket hanging on his chair back.

 

Then he took out his phone and called Fu Yuhan.

 

The phone rang for a long time before being answered: “Hello?”

 

It was very noisy on the other end, with car horns honking one after another, like at a busy intersection. Fu Yuhan was breathing heavily, the single “hello” followed by heavy panting.

 

“Where did you go?” Wen Yu’s voice was cold. “Don’t tell me you went jogging.”

 

“You’re already at the classroom?” Fu Yuhan didn’t answer the question, saying while panting, “Wait a moment… huff… I’ll be back soon… if you’re hungry, eat first…”

 

“I’ll wait for you.” Wen Yu cut him off. “Didn’t you say you’d be back soon? I can wait.”

 

“Alright,” Fu Yuhan sounded a bit helpless, “I’m… just two turns away.”

 

“Mm.” Wen Yu said nothing more and hung up.

 

The garden lights under the teaching building also lit up, casting a bit of dim light through the window. The classroom lights weren’t on. Wen Yu put away his phone and lowered his head in the gradually falling night.

 

“Can’t be like this…” he muttered softly.

 

—Where’s your composure?

 

“…Why make it so dark? Planning to play ghost and scare me?”

 

It wasn’t long before Fu Yuhan’s voice suddenly came from the half-open back door. As he spoke, he reached out to turn on the fluorescent light switch by the door.

 

The overhead light snapped on with a “click,” and Wen Yu turned around.

 

In the gradually cooling evening, Fu Yuhan was wearing the short-sleeved school uniform from daytime and had worked up a sweat from running. His face carried a flush from exercise as he walked in holding a large pile of things.

 

“Wen Yu?” His gaze fell on Wen Yu’s face, and Fu Yuhan looked quite surprised. “What’s wrong with you?”

 

Wen Yu’s gaze was heavy, his face expressionless.

 

Fu Yuhan blinked, his tone immediately becoming cautious: “Did something happen?”

 

Wen Yu looked at him for a while, then asked irrelevantly: “What are you holding?”

 

“Oh, this.” Fu Yuhan walked over and sat in his seat. “Didn’t I say I’d give you something before? Here.” He unwrapped the things and took out a plastic box, presenting it like a treasure to Wen Yu. “The Dark Souls I promised to let you play—this is the old version I used to play. It can only be read by old gaming consoles. I didn’t take this console when I moved, but surprisingly it was still at my dad’s place and he didn’t throw it away. I had Zhou Xiangyan help me find it and test it, and fortunately it still works.”

 

“You helped Zhou Xiangyan with art homework for this?” Wen Yu’s voice was very soft.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then why did you help Song Yang copy love letters?”

 

Fu Yuhan separated three-quarters of the stack of game boxes: “I don’t have many old game discs left, but Song Yang has more, so I asked him for some.”

 

“Why do you need so many?”

 

“Isn’t this in case you can’t get used to Dark Souls?” Fu Yuhan said. “I wanted to find more classic good games for you to choose from.”

 

Wen Yu glanced at the pile of colorful boxes.

 

The covers of the boxed game discs were printed with English names. With Wen Yu’s English level, understanding the words wasn’t difficult.

 

But he didn’t know what the official Chinese translations of those English names were—his father had never allowed him to play games.

 

Fu Yuhan… Fu Yuhan’s annoying perceptiveness was really…

 

Wen Yu kept his eyes down, his expression blank: “What games are these?”

 

“Hm?” Fu Yuhan was stunned, then counted them one by one with the boxes: “Dark Souls, God of War, Uncharted, Dead or Alive, Heavy Rain…”

 

Wen Yu pulled a box from his hands: “Is this one fun?”

 

He had taken God of War 3.

 

Fu Yuhan was stunned and chuckled: “How did you… It’s quite fun, Yang Fan really likes this one. It simulates the world of Greek mythology…”

 

“Forget it, I won’t play this one.” Wen Yu’s eyes flickered as he threw the game box back. “You recommend one for me.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I don’t have any particular preferences. I only have an impression of God of War because Yang Fan mentioned it.” Wen Yu said. “I’ll listen to your recommendation.”

 

Fu Yuhan blinked: “If you want to play God of War, then play it? You don’t need to avoid Yang Fan just for playing a game, since you’re not very heartbroken anyway…”

 

“Don’t want to, play something else.” Wen Yu interrupted him.

 

“…Fine, fine, whatever you want.”

 

Since these were things he had found for Wen Yu anyway, Fu Yuhan was naturally indifferent. He put the gaming console and discs into a large bag and handed it all to him.

 

Only then did Wen Yu start unwrapping the somewhat cooled dinner packaging.

 

He looked down at the bag by his feet while unwrapping and said: “But I don’t know how to use this thing—come to my place after midterms?”

 

Fu Yuhan looked up, his expression momentarily blank: “Your place… doesn’t seem to have a TV, right?”

 

Forget about a TV—Fu Yuhan had been there several times and hadn’t even seen a computer, let alone any “sound-playing display” that could be used to connect a gaming console.

 

“Just buy one.” Wen Yu didn’t care much. “So will you come or not?”

 

“Coming is no problem…” Fu Yuhan pursed his lips. “Tsk, young masters really are rich.”

 

“The rich young master is treating you to dinner and you still have so much to say.”

 

Wen Yu smiled, as if his mood had suddenly improved. He arranged the lunch boxes but didn’t pick up chopsticks. Instead, he felt around in his bag and handed over his biology notebook.

 

“Take it and look.” He said. “In the future, save this kind of thing for after exams—you’re not me. Do you really think you can pass by taking the exam blind?”

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)