Chapter 13

The two years were almost up. That person, unable to get the money, would surely try to stop him from continuing school. Xi Yan hadn’t yet figured out how to resolve this, so he didn’t return home and instead asked, “What about you?”

“I?” Zhu Shiyan pondered for a moment and said, “If possible, I want to go to B University.”

In his original world, he attended Q University and had always been curious about the neighboring B University. If given the chance, he wanted to try.

But that seemed unlikely. Not to mention whether he could pass the entrance exam, the storyline the system gave him ended after senior year, and once all the plotlines were played out, he was supposed to leave.

Xi Yan gave a hum of acknowledgment. “Then I want to go to B University too.”

B University was the dream school for many students. Zhu Shiyan smiled without much thought. “With your current grades, it’s definitely no problem.”

He lay back down, recalling his own university days and couldn’t help but say, “B University is far from here—so far that no one would recognize you. You wouldn’t have to run around worrying about tuition or living expenses. Your grades are excellent; scholarships and grants could easily support your life. You could do anything you want—join your favorite clubs, make a few close friends, maybe even fall in love…”

Xi Yan interrupted, “And you?”

“Me?” Zhu Shiyan smiled, the darkness hiding the complex emotions in his eyes. “I’ll be like you, study hard and try to get into a good university. But my grades aren’t as good as yours; I probably won’t make it into B University.”

“You will.” Xi Yan’s tone was resolute. “I’ll help you. We’ll go to B University together.”

“Alright.”

Outside, the rain gradually softened. Zhu Shiyan’s drowsiness crept in, and his voice lowered. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure and pain, but don’t worry. This is just a small part of your life. Get through these two years, and everything after will be smooth sailing. I’ll be with you…”

His breathing gradually evened out. Xi Yan waited quietly for a moment, then carefully turned over, staring at him without blinking, emotions in his eyes brimming to the point of overflowing.

After an unknown length of time, he reached out and gently ran his hand over Zhu Shiyan’s head.

The soft strands brushed against his palm. Xi Yan clearly heard the pounding of his own heart—each beat louder than the last, piercing the silent night.

Panicked, he withdrew his hand, struggling to calm his heartbeat, but to no avail. Just the thought of sharing a bed with Zhu Shiyan made him flush, tongue dry and mind racing with wild thoughts.

He didn’t understand what was happening to him. Struggling, he averted his gaze, stared at the ceiling with wide eyes, clenched his fists, and stiffened like a wooden statue.

The rain stopped gradually. Xi Yan didn’t close his eyes until dawn.

That was their last tutoring session before the New Year. The next day, Zhu Shiyan was taken back to the Zhu family’s old residence.

The Zhu family was large—his father, brothers, sisters, countless relatives. On New Year’s Eve, the house was swarming with people, some of whom Zhu Shiyan had never even met. Yet, no one paid much attention to him; the barrage of scrutiny was almost entirely aimed at Zhu Tingyun.

Zhu Tingyun, only twenty-six, was pressured by all these uncles and cousins to marry immediately. They insisted her marriage would benefit the family, offering several potential matches, each with their own ulterior motives disguised as goodwill.

But Zhu Tingyun wasn’t one to be trifled with. She responded with biting sarcasm, silencing them all.

Some were so incensed they reported her to Zhu Feng. Unfazed, Zhu Tingyun even found time to chat with Zhu Shiyan.

“I’m worried about you,” Zhu Shiyan said. “Aren’t you afraid Dad will listen to them and find you a fiancé?”

“He won’t touch me now,” Zhu Tingyun raised her eyelids slightly. “Does he expect his two useless sons to do his bidding by marrying me off?”

The third useless son, Zhu Shiyan, felt as if he’d just been insulted.

Zhu Tingyun glanced at him. “Uncle Lin said you’ve been tutoring over the winter break?”

Zhu Shiyan nodded. “Yeah, trying to improve in physics.”

“Who’s your tutor?”

Zhu Shiyan hesitated for two seconds, then said, “A classmate of mine.” Worried Zhu Tingyun might think he was messing around, he added, “He’s really good at physics—got full marks on the final.”

Zhu Tingyun’s tone shifted slightly. “Male or female?”

“Male.”

“Oh.” Zhu Tingyun sounded disappointed. “I thought it was a girl.”

Zhu Shiyan: “…”

After dinner, as the crowd dispersed, Zhu Feng, unable to stay up late, went to his room to sleep. Zhu Cheng went out with friends, and once Zhu Feng was in his room, he drove off in his sports car.

Zhu Tingyun was also rarely at home.

The lively villa instantly turned quiet and cold. Zhu Shiyan lay on his bed scrolling through his phone.

He received many New Year’s greetings and photos from Chu Junyuan, who was abroad. He replied to each message one by one. Somehow, he suddenly thought of Xi Yan.

Wondered what he was doing now.

Had he eaten dumplings?

Unfortunately, Xi Yan didn’t have a phone; otherwise, Zhu Shiyan could have called to wish him a Happy New Year.

Xi Yan was fighting.

On New Year’s Eve, nearly all the shops were closed. He couldn’t find any part-time work and had to go home early.

For him, the holiday was no different than usual—perhaps even harsher, because he had nowhere to go and had to stay home. Every second in that house was torment.

When he arrived, his mother was expressionlessly watching TV. His father lay drunkenly on the sofa, cursing foully.

No one paid him any attention.

Xi Yan had no intention of causing trouble either. He planned to quietly return to his room but suddenly stopped in his tracks when passing the sofa. His eyes fixated on a piece of clothing beneath the drunken man, his pupils instantly bloodshot.

Half of the garment was trapped under the drunkard; the other half lay on the floor, stained with grease and some unknown liquid. The collar was crumpled into a mess.

That piece of clothing was bought for him by Zhu Shiyan…

He couldn’t bear even a drop of rain to touch it, usually treating it with the utmost care. Yet here it was, casually trampled by this beast.

Uncontrollable rage flared within him, spreading through his body like wildfire. Xi Yan’s breathing grew heavy, his expression dark as a storm, voice low, hoarse, and twisted: “That shirt is mine.”

“What did you say?”

The man grabbed his bottle, staggered to his feet, squinted at him, and spat. Seeing Xi Yan staring at the shirt, he cursed, “I haven’t settled with you yet! How dare you buy such a fine shirt? How much money have you been hiding?”

Xi Yan’s eyes went blank. He dragged his heavy steps forward, voice icy cold, “I said, that shirt is mine.”

“You’ve got some nerve, huh? Talking back? I’ll beat you to death!”

Enraged, the man smashed the bottle down on Xi Yan’s head.

Blood streamed down his forehead. Xi Yan ignored it all, looking at the man as if he were already dead.

The women nearby were frightened by the scene and trembled as they tried to intervene. “Enough, enough! It’s just a shirt. Don’t be angry on New Year’s Eve.”

The man slapped one of them away. “You bitch, get out! I’m going to teach him a lesson today!”

When the man swung again, Xi Yan fought back.

He blocked the punch, countered with a punch of his own, and the two quickly grappled.

Xi Yan was no longer as small as before, but Xi Kuo was an adult male and had years of abusive experience. Despite being pinned down, Xi Yan seemed not to feel the pain, eyes fixed relentlessly on the shirt on the sofa.

As Xi Kuo’s fist came down again, Xi Yan’s gaze shifted. He swiftly grabbed a knife from the table and plunged it forcefully into Xi Kuo’s abdomen—

A woman’s scream shattered the silence. Xi Kuo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You…”

Blood mixed with alcohol spilled everywhere. The living room was a chaotic mess. The woman continued shrieking in panic, but Xi Yan remained unusually calm. Clutching the shirt, he stumbled out.

His body was stained with large patches of blood. A wound on his head bled down his face; his clothes were dirty and disheveled. One leg dragged weakly behind him, making him look terrifying.

Passersby moved aside, whispering in surprise.

Xi Yan wandered until he stopped in front of a phone booth.

He fumbled to pull a coin from his pocket, stood at the entrance for a long time, then slowly stepped inside.

Zhu Shiyan, after chatting with Chu Junyuan, was sleepy, yawning repeatedly. He rubbed his eyes and decided to shower and sleep.

Then, his phone rang.

He saw an unfamiliar number—a landline.

Feeling strange, he answered, “Hello? Who’s this?”

Silence on the other end.

Zhu Shiyan glanced at his phone, growing more puzzled. Who would call a landline on New Year’s?

Just as he was about to hang up, a hoarse voice came through the line: “Zhu Shiyan.”

His eyes widened. Though the voice was distorted by the phone, he recognized it instantly.

“Xi Yan?” he asked joyfully.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Really you!” Zhu Shiyan’s voice brimmed with excitement. “Happy New Year! Wishing you all the best and happiness in the new year!”

Xi Yan’s vision blurred, and he nearly collapsed. Leaning against the booth for support, he whispered, “You too.”

Receiving the call wiped away Zhu Shiyan’s sleepiness. He asked cheerfully, “Did you eat dumplings?”

“Yes.”

Zhu Shiyan chuckled, “Me too. I even got the lucky dumpling with the coin inside.”

Though Xi Yan had felt his New Year was terrible, hearing Zhu Shiyan’s rambling voice now made it seem not so bad.

He gazed at the brilliant fireworks outside the booth and whispered amidst the countdown:

“Zhu Shiyan, Happy New Year.”