CFHE Chapter 53.1

Wen Yu gripped the wine glass tightly and looked up at Chen Feifan: “How can a bar owner be so stingy?”

 

Unexpectedly, his grip was quite strong when drunk. Chen Feifan couldn’t pull it away and straightened up, sneering at him: “I’m stingy? If you can drink, what’s wrong with finishing all the wine in my house?”

 

“Then let me drink.” Wen Yu tilted his head back and finished the half glass, then picked up the bottle to pour more.

 

“I’m afraid you’ll cause a drunken scene at my place.”

 

Wen Yu didn’t respond.

 

He just wanted to get drunk, wanted to pretend everything was a dream, a hallucination after drinking too much. When he woke up, the world could still be as it was before: he just had a bit of “interest” in Fu Yuhan regarding human nature, and Fu Yuhan was still a test subject in his human observation experiment—

 

If only it were really like that.

 

Seeing he couldn’t be persuaded, Chen Feifan simply stopped trying. Noticing the wine was running low, he went to the storage room to get another bottle: “Then drink up, there’s plenty.”

 

Chen Feifan was in his thirties. Although he saw Wen Yu as a child, he had no interest in playing father to anyone. Usually when something happened, he would give his usual advice, and if it didn’t work, he’d let things take their course, even adding fuel to the fire.

 

“But take it easy yourself, don’t drink yourself sick.” Chen Feifan lit a cigarette.

 

Wen Yu was the type whose face got paler the more he drank. Chen Feifan couldn’t tell at which sip he’d reach his limit, but fortunately Wen Yu had always shown self-restraint before, so no one bothered to supervise him.

 

Today was hard to say.

 

So although Chen Feifan really wanted to go upstairs to sleep with his boyfriend, to avoid the tragedy of “waking up to find an alcohol-poisoned corpse in the living room,” he had to stay and watch.

 

Wen Yu wasn’t polite with him, taking the bottle and starting to pour.

 

High-proof alcohol had a strong aftertaste and delayed kick. Even with his good alcohol tolerance, drinking like this could easily make him dizzy. As Wen Yu drank, his elbows were already propped on the table.

 

Time passed unknowingly, and four whiskey bottles lay empty in front of him.

 

Chen Feifan finished a cigarette and poured himself a drink, looking at Wen Yu with amusement, thinking this kid really could drink.

 

But it was about enough.

 

Wen Yu rubbed his eyes, sniffled, poured a good glass of wine, and took out his phone.

 

He had quite a few WeChat groups with many people and messages, and after being pulled into the class group by Fu Yuhan, there was one more. Opening WeChat was full of messages he didn’t want to see, so actually, he didn’t know from which day he had casually pinned Fu Yuhan’s chat window to the top, so he could see it as soon as he opened the app.

 

Fu Yuhan’s profile picture was a pencil-drawn self-portrait. Yang Fan, Chu Lei, Pi Qiu and the others all had corresponding pictures. Wen Yu had seen them when he first added these friends. Yang Fan had even told him that when he got familiar with Fu Yuhan, he could ask him to draw one. But Wen Yu never asked for one, and instead saw this group of people change their profile pictures one by one afterward, leaving only Fu Yuhan and Yang Fan still using theirs.

 

At first glance, they looked like couple avatars.

 

Thinking of this, Wen Yu unconsciously switched to his contacts, scrolled to “Y” and looked at Yang Fan’s profile picture—it had changed.

 

Yang Fan, who had gotten taken, finally changed his picture after two years. It was the very typical “you can tell there’s another half” couple avatar, looking like something a girl found online, very girly in style.

 

Good, it finally didn’t look like Fu Yuhan’s couple anymore, Wen Yu thought drowsily.

 

He should have realized it earlier. When he heard Yang Fan had finally won over his goddess, Wen Yu wasn’t very heartbroken. Maybe from that time he should have… no, maybe it was earlier, from when he couldn’t control himself wanting to find trouble with Fu Yuhan, falling into today’s situation was already destined.

 

Being attracted was something that couldn’t be controlled by reason, and before realizing he couldn’t control himself, he hadn’t even thought about trying to control it.

 

What to do?

 

Was it still too late to take back his feelings now?

 

Or… should he pursue him?

 

But Fu Yuhan had no interest in him at all. That fool’s head was full of Yang Fan—

 

What was so good about Yang Fan? A naive, single-minded straight guy whose best buddy had secretly loved him for so many years without him noticing at all…

 

Perhaps it was the alcohol going to his head. Chaotic thoughts were like waves, rising and falling in Wen Yu’s swollen brain, crashing back and forth. His mind was very confused, his fingers acting without thinking, following the profile to click on Yang Fan’s Moments—

 

Then he saw a selfie, posted “2 hours ago.”

 

In the photo, Zhao Tong faced the camera, leaning her head back against Yang Fan’s shoulder. The two snuggled together, smiling sweetly. The background looked like a movie theater in the city center—they were probably out on a weekend date.

 

Wen Yu’s heart “thudded” with a sinking feeling.

 

His first reaction was that Fu Yuhan would see it.

 

If he saw it, he would be sad. Even though that fool had been hiding his emotions quite well lately, Wen Yu would occasionally catch a fleeting glimpse of loneliness in his eyes when their conversations mentioned Yang Fan.

 

Wen Yu shot up from his seat with a “whoosh.”

 

“What’s wrong?” Chen Feifan was nearly startled by him.

 

“I… he…” Wen Yu suddenly didn’t know what to say.

 

Instinctively, he felt he should find Fu Yuhan right now, ask where he was, whether he was alone somewhere. Rationally, he began to feel afraid again.

 

He instinctively feared things beyond his control, and it seemed he really couldn’t maintain his composure around Fu Yuhan.

 

Wen Yu froze for three seconds, then suddenly sat down dejectedly with reddened eyes.

 

He spread his five fingers, running them through his hair from his forehead to the back of his head, gripping his hair roots tightly, then slammed his forehead down onto the wooden table. “What should I do…”

 

Chen Feifan glanced at him, flicked his lighter with a “snap,” lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

 

There was some commotion outside the door, and soon the sound of “clinking” came from behind Wen Yu as someone walked in, but Wen Yu didn’t turn around.

 

He just murmured “what should I do,” his voice growing hoarser and hoarser.

 

A tall, handsome man walked in from outside, with striking features and somewhat dark skin. The stubble around his chin didn’t make him look disheveled, but rather added the distinctive “charm” of a middle-aged man. He walked straight to Chen Feifan’s side, bent down and kissed his cheek: “I wondered why I didn’t see you when I woke up.”

 

“Came to do a good deed, give some guidance to a little friend.” Chen Feifan pulled over a stool for his boyfriend and patted it. “Sit.”

 

“What’s wrong with him?” The newcomer looked at Wen Yu.

 

“‘That person looks so strange, he’s like a dog.'” Chen Feifan recited a movie line with a theatrical tone, shaking his head. “I really don’t understand why some people, at the age when they should be most willful, insist on thinking about how to seek thrills and rebel while guarding their ridiculous pride, refusing to take even one step forward.”

 

“Hmm?” The man laughed. “I suspect you’re personally attacking me—how long ago was that, and you’re still bringing up old grievances?”

 

“Wasn’t I the same back then.” Chen Feifan shook his head, got up to fetch another wine glass, and poured wine for his boyfriend. “Come, have a drink with me.”

 

Though Wen Yu was dizzy, he heard every word Chen Feifan said. He lifted his head, eyes red-rimmed, looking at him dejectedly: “Am I ridiculous?”

 

“People definitely need self-respect, but pride is worth nothing when it comes to love. Xiao Qi, ask yourself, are you really willing to give up? If it were me, I wouldn’t be willing.” Chen Feifan said this while glancing at that person, lowering his voice slightly. “You know, if back then neither of us had been willing to humble ourselves for each other, we might have become… strangers by now.”

 

“Then I would definitely regret it now.” His boyfriend also met Chen Feifan’s gaze and continued the conversation.

 

“Wouldn’t I feel the same?” After Chen Feifan finished speaking, he smiled at the other person, and the two exchanged a gentle and profound kiss right in front of Wen Yu.

 

Wen Yu: “…”

 

Wen Yu immediately wanted to leave.

 

He even stood up and took two steps toward the door, but his legs went weak, and he could only slide slowly to the ground while supporting himself against the tree-stump-like stool.

 

The excess alcohol accumulated in his stomach, stirring restlessly, making him nauseous.

 

“If you want to vomit, there’s a bathroom over there,” Chen Feifan said.

 

Wen Yu didn’t make a sound. He endured it and forced the nausea back down. He still had that little bit of remaining rationality left; he couldn’t think any further. The myriad thoughts in his mind gradually settled like flying catkins and goose feathers, until only one sentence remained.

 

“I’m not willing to give up.”

 

“Then go pursue him.” Chen Feifan said from across the table. “How big of a deal is it… Later you’ll understand, at your age, you should throw caution to the wind once.”

 

“But he’s not interested in me,” Wen Yu said with his head down, sniffling, speaking drowsily and unclearly. “A while ago I asked if he wanted to be with me, and he thought I was joking around with him.”

 

Although he omitted the beginning and end without explaining the cause and effect, Chen Feifan still hit the nail on the head: “You brought it on yourself.”

 

It really was self-inflicted. He had lied to Fu Yuhan too many times, just like the child in “The Boy Who Cried Wolf.” When the wolf really came, no one believed him anymore.

 

“Um… Xiao Qi.” At this moment, his boyfriend called out to Wen Yu. He wasn’t very familiar with Wen Yu, so he was somewhat polite and reserved, saying hesitantly: “Although I don’t really know your situation… but no matter how you think about it, pursuing someone isn’t something that can be solved by ‘asking once,’ right?”

 

Chen Feifan suddenly burst into laughter, thinking of something unknown.

 

His boyfriend said helplessly: “What are you laughing at?”

 

Chen Feifan laughed for quite a while before leaning across the wooden table, looking down at Wen Yu sitting on the ground: “Hey, Xiao Qi, seriously, if he doesn’t agree, then go beg him, go pester him relentlessly—you’ll eventually succeed.”

 

Wen Yu was speechless.

 

He could tell that the boss was laughing like that because he wanted to see him make a fool of himself. The boss had said more than once before that he was “too uptight for someone so young,” but he was used to being that way and didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. Now that there was an opportunity to watch the drama unfold, the boss immediately got excited.

 

Would begging him really work?

 

But how would you know it wouldn’t work if you’ve never tried?

 

It felt like two people were fighting in his head. Wen Yu thought helplessly that liking someone really did make you timid—afraid both that he wouldn’t respond and that you wouldn’t be yourself anymore.

 

Wen Yu slowly climbed up using the tree-stump stool for support, sat back down, and rested his head on the wooden table. He stared at WeChat in a daze for quite a while, finally sighing—

 

He couldn’t fool himself; he still wanted to talk to him.

 

Wen Yu clicked on Fu Yuhan’s profile picture, enduring wave after wave of dizziness, typing out a line letter by letter and sending it.

 

Wen Yu: Where are you?

 

One minute, two minutes.

 

Five minutes, ten minutes.

 

Fu Yuhan didn’t reply.

 

Fu Yuhan had spent the entire afternoon playing games with Wen Yu, and only returned home after dinner. He found it strange that after being away for a day and night, his mother hadn’t called or messaged him as usual. When he got home, he discovered there was no one there at all.

 

He called Uncle Qin, who said they were at the hospital.

 

He didn’t know if it was because of the changing season, but Qin Xiaolu’s condition had visibly worsened again.

 

If spending time playing games with Wen Yu was his way of relaxing after midterm exams, then Qin Xiaolu’s illness was like instantly pulling him back to reality. Fu Yuhan sighed and said he’d go to the hospital to help.

 

Ever since their last argument, He Yan hadn’t yelled at him for a while, but perhaps because she was worried about Xiaolu and feeling anxious, the moment Fu Yuhan arrived at the hospital, He Yan unleashed a torrent of scolding on him.

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)