CFHE Chapter 49

“Sure, turn them off.” Fu Yuhan didn’t think anything of it. He stood up to turn off the lights, and considering Wen Yu’s “sleeping habits,” he specifically asked, “Should I help you draw the curtains too?”

 

The lights were already off, but it wasn’t dark yet, so it would indeed be a bit bright without drawing the curtains.

 

Wen Yu held the controller, his dark pupils reflecting a bit of light from the screen, looking at him and saying: “Please do.”

 

“No problem.” Fu Yuhan responded flatly and walked over to draw the curtains.

 

When he raised his hand, his school uniform was pulled up with the motion, revealing a section of his slender waist, which was then quickly covered along with the daylight.

 

Only then did Wen Yu look away.

 

The screen showed the start game interface. He didn’t rush to move until Fu Yuhan walked back and the sofa beside him sank down, then Wen Yu pressed the confirm button.

 

In fact, playing immersive interactive movies was more interesting than simply watching movies, because there were still parts that required player operation during the process, making it more engaging.

 

Especially with the lights off and curtains drawn in the room.

 

Wen Yu always had moments each day when he completely didn’t want to see light. He had specifically chosen curtains for his living space that could block out every trace of light. This should have been an environment where he could easily immerse himself in the game, but he was somewhat distracted.

 

In his peripheral vision was a section of wrist bone of the person beside him illuminated by the screen light, the skin on the back of his hand so white it seemed to glow.

 

Very dazzling.

 

This was too distracting, Wen Yu thought.

 

–

 

In terms of operational difficulty, Heavy Rain and Dark Souls weren’t on the same level. Wen Yu didn’t encounter much trouble playing through it. Although he was a bit distracted at first, the game’s plot was indeed as Fu Yuhan said, “very good,” so he gradually focused on the game.

 

Fu Yuhan sat beside him watching like a movie, occasionally speaking up to remind him when he encountered difficulties.

 

The atmosphere was very nice.

 

If it were summer vacation, neither of them would have imagined having such moments of sitting together quietly playing games.

 

Actually, he hadn’t told Fu Yuhan that he had the latest models of gaming consoles, all kinds of consoles.

 

But not a single game.

 

Due to his “good performance,” after entering high school, his father had given him much more allowance.

 

The kind that increased by one zero overnight.

 

Wen Yu had no other expenses, so he secretly saved money and bought back all those things he had wanted before but couldn’t have.

 

But it turned out that even after buying them back, he didn’t know where to start, and there were still areas that couldn’t be solved by search engines without guidance.

 

He had never told anyone about these things, partly because it “wasn’t allowed,” and partly because he wasn’t used to it.

 

Fu Yuhan was just that perceptive.

 

He could guess what he wanted without being told.

 

A very subtle emotion grew in his heart, like millions of ants crawling over, fine and dense, tugging with pain and bringing an itch.

 

Until the sound of a door opening came from outside, Wen Yu was startled awake from this emotion.

 

“Why is it so dark?”

 

“Probably Xiao Yu didn’t open the curtains when he left this morning. Let me see—”

 

Two female voices at the door were talking as they walked in. Before Fu Yuhan could react, he felt Wen Yu quickly throw the controller in his hands into his lap.

 

Fu Yuhan: “…?”

 

The overhead fluorescent light was suddenly turned on, as if dispelling some secret sentiment. Wen Yu’s face was cold as he questioned the people who entered: “Why are you here again?”

 

There were two women, one older who looked like the cooking auntie; as for the other…

 

She was a very beautiful woman with an elegant and outstanding temperament, well-maintained, looking only about thirty years old. Considering Wen Yu’s attitude toward her as if facing a great enemy, Fu Yuhan suspected this was his “stepmother.”

 

But speaking of which… where was his biological mother?

 

“Ah, Xiao Yu, you’re home?” Fang Wanjing was somewhat surprised and a bit flustered. “Sorry, I didn’t know…”

 

Perhaps affected by the unknown emotion from earlier, Wen Yu realized he had lost his composure. He lowered his eyes, took a long breath, pursed his lips to adjust his expression, and when he looked up again, he smiled faintly at Fang Wanjing: “It’s Friday today, school ended early. Mom, what are you here for?”

 

“Auntie said you wanted late-night snacks, and I thought that made sense, you’re in senior year now… Didn’t I make good soup? Today I brought you a soft-shell turtle…” Fang Wanjing smiled reluctantly, and to dispel the awkwardness, she turned her gaze to Fu Yuhan. “This is… Xiao Yu’s classmate? He rarely brings classmates home…”

 

The way this mother and son interacted was too strange. Fu Yuhan had been watching Wen Yu’s expression, and now he saw Wen Yu frown slightly, as if wanting to say something.

 

Not knowing where the intuition came from, Fu Yuhan pressed down on Wen Yu’s right hand with his left, looked up and nodded lightly at Fang Wanjing, saying neither humbly nor arrogantly: “Hello, Auntie. My name is Fu Yuhan, I’m Wen Yu’s desk mate.”

 

Fang Wanjing made a short “ah” sound: “It’s you.”

 

In his palm, Wen Yu’s hand that he was pressing down seemed to struggle a bit. Fu Yuhan used his other hand to press down with more force, his expression not showing much, only raising his eyebrows slightly: “Wen Yu mentioned me?”

 

“Sort of.” Fang Wanjing smiled at him. “You’re quite famous.”

 

Famous? His fame was all for bad things.

 

Fu Yuhan glanced at Wen Yu, thinking no wonder he didn’t want him to hear—turns out he had spoken ill of him before.

 

“Mom,” Wen Yu called out, “aren’t you going to make soup?”

 

“Alright, alright, I’ll go make it.” Only then did Fang Wanjing glance at the gaming console monitor in front of them, licking her lips, seeming somewhat troubled. “Don’t play too long, it’ll be time for dinner soon.”

 

Indeed, although Friday ended early, time playing games passed too quickly.

 

Wen Yu felt like he hadn’t yet awakened from this dream when it was time to get up.

 

The screen showed a “paused” state. Wen Yu glanced at it, then looked down at Fu Yuhan’s hand pressing on the back of his hand.

 

Indeed very white.

 

He paused and said softly: “Put it away, wait for next time…”

 

Would there be a next time?

 

Wen Yu wasn’t sure and didn’t want to ask.

 

He was already eighteen, yet needed someone to accompany him to play games—that seemed quite laughable too.

 

Besides, the gaming console had been seen by Fang Wanjing, so whether there could be a next time was still questionable.

 

Fu Yuhan glanced at him, said nothing, and silently saved the progress, then exited, shut down, unplugged, and packed everything away with movements so practiced it was clear he’d done this countless times.

 

If nothing else, at least he hadn’t been restricted in playing games.

 

He packed the gaming console and game discs into the bag, then turned to ask Wen Yu: “Do you need me to take it back temporarily?”

 

He emphasized the word “temporarily.”

 

Look, there it was again—that perceptiveness that was both lovable and hateful. Wen Yu couldn’t help but smile: “Take it back. Should I have you take the monitor too?”

 

Fu Yuhan frowned slightly—that thing would be hard to take, it was a bit big.

 

Seeing his expression, Wen Yu smiled even more: “Just kidding. Leave the monitor here, this… should be fine.”

 

“Should be.”

 

In that instant, Fu Yuhan felt Wen Yu was quite pitiful too.

 

Fang Wanjing took the auntie to busy themselves in the kitchen. The two packed up the gaming console and sat in the living room staring at the turned-off monitor.

 

After sitting for two minutes, Wen Yu stood up and opened the curtains—

 

The dream was over, there was no need to keep them closed.

 

Late October, it got dark early. When Wen Yu opened the curtains, he discovered night had already fallen.

 

In the distance, streets hidden among tree leaves were lit with early evening lights, like scattered stars fallen into the mortal world.

 

Very beautiful.

 

If there weren’t people at home, he might pour himself a glass of whiskey and drink it slowly by the window.

 

This thought was fleeting, but someone approached from behind.

 

From the footsteps he knew it was Fu Yuhan, so he didn’t turn around.

 

Fu Yuhan was about the same height as him. He walked to the window, leaned close to his ear and said softly: “Continue playing after evening self-study?”

 

Wen Yu was stunned and turned to look, just catching the other’s gaze.

 

Fu Yuhan had his usual expressionless look, his gaze casual, as if he had said something perfectly ordinary.

 

Some people’s casual gifts are enormous blessings to others.

 

“How do you…” Wen Yu was speechless, then suddenly smiled. “Always say what I want to hear.”

 

“Because if I hadn’t seen you cry before, I’d think you were about to cry.” Fu Yuhan kept his voice very low for this sentence, so the people busy in the kitchen definitely couldn’t hear. After finishing, he raised his voice to normal volume: “Thank me—it shows I’m in the mood to comfort people right now.”

 

Wen Yu deeply agreed with this, having seen what Fu Yuhan was like when being confrontational.

 

That look, that aura—anyone else facing him would have been scared to death. Only Wen Yu was bold enough.

 

Fu Yuhan might not be anything special, but no one disliked being comforted.

 

Wen Yu finally felt the displeasure brought by Fang Wanjing had been somewhat dispelled.

 

Without the gaming console and no homework, the two could only stare at each other. Fu Yuhan really felt there was nothing to look at in Wen Yu’s face, so he simply ran to the kitchen to “curry favor.”

 

He curried favor with great style, even asking Fang Wanjing if she needed help with an air of indifference.

 

Fang Wanjing would never agree, but Fu Yuhan had done plenty of kitchen work at home and was first-rate at taking over tasks. Before she could react, Fu Yuhan was already washing vegetables.

 

Wen Yu silently walked to the kitchen doorway and stared.

 

Fu Yuhan had a bad reputation.

 

Wen Ziming had once clearly expressed his disapproval of him continuing to be desk mates with Fu Yuhan. Wen Yu had never asked Fang Wanjing afterward how her inquiry into the situation with Zhou Wenkang had gone.

 

In any case, during this period, these two people hadn’t come to bother him.

 

He had thought things would continue to go well like this, but today, Fang Wanjing’s appearance made him realize this was somewhat wishful thinking.

 

However—

 

Fu Yuhan was right. When he wanted to comfort people, he really could make them happy.

 

Although he hadn’t said much, Fang Wanjing clearly appreciated this kind of “understanding” behavior of “actively helping adults with work.”

 

Fu Yuhan had thought they would stay to eat together, but unexpectedly, after making a table full of dishes, Fang Wanjing said she was leaving.

 

“The soup might need to simmer a bit longer,” she took off her apron, smoothed the hair by her temples, and said with a smile, “Since Xiao Han understands, I won’t stay long. I’ll head back first.”

 

“Isn’t Auntie eating with us?” Fu Yuhan asked.

 

“No,” she shook her head and glanced toward Wen Yu, “Xiao Yu doesn’t like eating with others.”

 

…?

 

Fu Yuhan wanted to pretend he hadn’t seen the person who specifically ran to his house to order takeout saying he wanted to find someone to eat with.

 

She walked to the door with the cooking auntie and changed shoes. Before leaving, Fang Wanjing hesitated and said to Wen Yu: “I won’t tell your father about what happened earlier.”

 

Fu Yuhan: “?”

 

Wen Yu nodded lightly: “Thank you, Mom.”

 

“Then I’m leaving. You two eat well, and don’t be late for evening self-study later.” She smiled and left, closing the door.

 

The kitchen, which had just been filled with the sounds of pots and pans clashing, suddenly fell quiet. After a period of chaos, the house settled into an unusual tranquility.

 

Fu Yuhan looked at Wen Yu twice and noticed he was spacing out.

 

“Hey,” he called to him, “the person who won’t let you play games is your dad, right?”

 

“Hm? Yeah.” Wen Yu came back to his senses and looked up to respond.

 

“Then…” Fu Yuhan licked his lips, his gaze flickering, “I’ll ask an inappropriate question. Your… mom? I don’t mean the one just now.”

 

Wen Yu lowered his gaze and remained silent for a long while.

 

Fu Yuhan sniffled: “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

 

Wen Yu still didn’t speak.

 

He neither spoke nor moved, standing in place as if thinking about something.

 

Fu Yuhan’s legs went numb from standing, so he shifted his weight to the other leg and looked up at the time.

 

Noticing his movement, Wen Yu finally seemed to come alive, moving slightly and saying in a deep voice: “Fu Yuhan.”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Tonight… tonight’s evening self-study,” he said, “let’s not go?”

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)