TWSITAOCP Chapter 32

After the Spring Festival, Yandu often had windy days, causing the aluminum windows to rattle from time to time.

The boys, who insisted on dragging their friends along to watch adult films for courage, were all incredibly timid. The slightest sound would make them nervously look around.

In truth, the room door was locked, and the two doors outside the living room were also locked from the inside—even blocked with chairs and boxes. Tang Bohu explained that his mother was ever fiercer than him. If she discovered the doors were locked, her first reaction might be to break them down by force, so some extraordinary protective measures were necessary.

But even so, they were still nervous.

For a moment, a decorative figurine Tang Bohu had placed by the window rolled off the windowsill and fell onto the floor. The sound was faint, but someone immediately looked over and muttered, “Damn, that scared the hell out of me.”

“Scared what out of you?” someone nearby immediately asked.

A series of chuckles erupted around him, followed quickly by someone hushing, “Quiet!”

Yu Sui stood out the least among them, lingering on the periphery, one hand shielding the glow of his phone screen.

The others were nervous, yet not as nervous as he was.

Yu Sui barely managed to suppress his own restlessness and unease. He deleted the words in the chat box, hesitating for a long time before deciding what to reply.

He had initially thought of sending, “It’s nothing. I was just calling out randomly”—which would have been typical of his habit of constantly bothering Yan Xiu for no reason. But ever since the widely circulated saying of “‘it’s nothing’ actually means something” became popular a year ago, the phrase “nothing” sometimes sounded pretentious.

Yu Sui didn’t want to sound pretentious, nor did he want to leave the chat box empty. Unexpectedly, in that brief moment of hesitation, his phone screen suddenly switched from the white-and-green chat interface to a black-and-red voice call invitation.

“…”

Yu Sui immediately hung up.

He nearly choked on his breath, almost scared to death by his deskmate.

Thankily, he had been ordered to put his phone on silent when he entered the room, otherwise any sound would have frightened the already-jittery boys.

Sitting diagonally in front of Yu Sui, Yang Feiwen happened to turn his head to stretch his sore shoulders and neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to catch a glimpse of an interface on Yu Sui’s phone. He paused, then instinctively asked, “Did someone call you?”

He had only asked casually, but Yu Sui reacted strongly. Yu Sui looked up at him, and for a moment, Yang Feiwen thought he saw murderous intent in those usually innocent eyes.

But Yu Sui quickly realized Yang Feiwen hadn’t seen it clearly at all: “… Oh, it was my mom.”

“…” Yang Feiwen said with lingering fear, “That was kind of scary.”

Yu Sui ignored him. Fortunately, Yang Feiwen was currently caught up in the thrill of the moment, his mind hazy, and didn’t notice anything unusual about Yu Sui.

Yu Sui lowered his head, his fingers rapidly tapping on the screen.

Fish Can: [There was a problem I didn’t know how to solve.]

Fish Can: [But I get it now.]

After sending the messages, he put his phone into his pocket, not wanting to look at it again anytime soon.

Sixteen- or seventeen-year-olds, who had just stumbled to their feet in their own small worlds, had seen too much dazzling yet experienced too little. Still being taught that the world wasn’t simply black and white, they suddenly encountered a problem beyond their scope—and were completely lost, utterly bewildered.

Tang Bohu’s family wasn’t out for long, so this secret gathering didn’t last long. When his family returned, they warmly invited everyone to dinner, and his mother even pulled out a stack of red envelopes from the cabinet and distributed them.

These young men, who were just inside shouting that they wanted to turn adults on the spot, now received their red envelopes and grinned like the little kids next door gleefully clutching their Transformers toys.

Perhaps Tang Bohu had been cooped up at home for too long after his injury, and with people finally coming to visit him, his family was overjoyed.

That night, they played games until very late, and Tang Bohu’s mother brought out blankets for the boys to make makeshift-beds on the floor in Bohu’s room.

Caught up in their fun, they quietly got up after the lights were turned off to play some more.

There were six of them, split into two teams. Two of them sat in front of the computer: Yu Sui and Tang Bohu, and Liang Wen and Yang Feiwen formed a squad.

They were still short of one person. And, Yu Sui suddenly remembered “Tiantian”, ​​whom Yang Feiwen always called out to when they played games.

Tiantian was a girl Yang Feiwen had met on a forum. She was in the same grade as them at No. 26 High School, but she was in the “Upper Eight Circle”¹上八圈 /shàng bā quān/ is a phrase for people with brains or superior., which was quite far from their classroom. Visiting her during breaks meant crossing a long corridor and risking being late for class.

Yang Feiwen, known as a gossip expert, had already figured out Tiantian’s class and name perfectly, though Tiantian still believed she hadn’t revealed her identity.

In their first game, they were matched with a teammate who was incredibly sarcastic²cussing. Yu Sui, thoroughly annoyed, nudged Yang Feiwen, “Where’s your Tiantian?”

Although Tiantian was bad at the game, she didn’t swear and spoke gently—at least much better than the unpredictable, inhuman teammates they often matched with late at night.

Yang Feiwen didn’t even look up: “We’re done.”

Yu Sui was momentarily stunned: “What do you mean ‘done’?”

During the New Year, Yang Feiwen had asked him for advice on how to wish Tiantian a Happy New Year. How could they be “done” so quickly? What exactly was “done”?

“Just done,” Yang Feiwen finally finished collecting his daily reward and sighed at the group eagerly awaiting his gossip. “I sent her a New Year’s red envelope as a confession, and she accepted.”

“And then?” Liang Wen leaned closer, drawing out the question.

Yang Feiwen sighed even deeper: “Then, on New Year’s Eve, I officially sent her three New Year’s red envelopes, each named with the initials of her name. After that, she deleted me.”

Everyone: “…”

Three seconds later, the group burst into laughter, nearly waking Tang’s mother, who was sleeping soundly across the hallway.

Yu Sui felt the most sympathy for Yang Feiwen—but seeing that Yang Feiwen didn’t seem particularly sad aside from those two sighs, he nudged him and hesitantly said, “Want to have a couple of drinks with me?”

Yang Feiwen replied without hesitation, “Sure, tomorrow then. I can’t drink more today.”

Yu Sui: “…”

He finally realized that worrying about this guy was like feeding fish to a dog—completely unnecessary. So, he lowered his eyes to continue playing the game, ignoring him.

Yang Feiwen, however, belatedly sensed a hint of warmth from his good friend. He moved closer with a cheeky grin and whispered, “Actually, I was pretty upset at first. But, it was New Year, and there were so many things to do. As time passed, I got voer it. Then, I realized I didn’t like her that much after all.”

Yu Sui glanced at him and gave a cold, indifferent “oh.”

The teammates matched within the next round weren’t as foul-mouthed, but they were annoyingly bossy—coming in like commanders and giving orders about what the first player should use, what the second player should use.

Yang Feiwen was annoyed. Thinking about Tiantian from earlier, he suddenly remembered Yan Xiu—the only other newbie their group had ever carried.

“How about calling Yan Xiu? He can’t be asleep at this hour, right?” Yang Feiwen suddenly had a flash of inspiration and grinned at Yu Sui. “Hey, I was wondering why our seven-second memory fish suddenly remembered Tiantian. Were you actually thinking of calling Yan Xiu right now? You should have said so! I’m your number one matchmaker. I’ll make sure to quietly connect you two…”

Watching Yang Feiwen chatter away while swiftly switching to WeChat to message Yan Xiu, Yu Sui’s eyelids twitched. He didn’t even catch half of what Yang Feiwen was saying. He slapped the bed, cutting off the matchmaker’s eager hands.

“Shut up,” Yu Sui said, completely undignified. “We’re not on good terms lately. If you call him now, we’ll start arguing immediately, then never speak to each other again. You’re the one who pushed us toward a bad ending, got it?”

Hitting where it hurts the most, Yang Feiwen—who took great pride in his self-proclaimed reputation—immediately let go of the phone and switched back to the game interface. The group burst into laughter again.

Liang Wen said, “Why don’t you two build your own CP building?”

“Pfft, what’s the fun in that?” Yang Feiwen retorted.

He didn’t notice Yu Sui beside him, who seemed inspired by the idea, silently lifting his eyelids.

These gaming-addicted teens played until very late. Eventually, Yu Sui got sleepy and was the first to surrender, rolling out of bed with his blanket.

His sleep was far from peaceful. The moment Yu Sui closed his eyes, he saw a fisherman wearing a red armband. This time, the fisherman wasn’t breaking ice—he was sitting in a small boat. In his dream, it had just rained heavily, and the fisherman’s clothes were soaked. He pulled off his shirt, wrung it out, and hung it by the side of the boat.

Yu Sui fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes, but he woke up with a cramp in his calf. Lips pressed tight, he curled up silently for a moment.

Yang Feiwen was still battling it out behind him, frantically pounding the bed in frustration: “Who’s that fish? He keeps stealing my resources!”

“It’s me!” a boy roared. “Aren’t I supporting you? Why are you so upset about me taking a couple of coins from you!”

Yu Sui reached for his phone, propping himself up on the floor mattress. He turned on the screen and realized he’d only been asleep for twenty minutes.

There was an unread message in his WeChat.

Yan Xiu: [You’re not home?]

Sent twenty minutes ago.

Freshly awakened from the nightmare, a lingering fog still clinged to his brow. He bent his knees, rested his arm on it, and reread the message. Then, with a sudden jolt in his chest, he was fully awake.

Could this person have gone to my house? Yu Sui wondered.

He found it unbelievable, utterly incomprehensible. Half a minute later, he scoffed at himself, thinking his brain must be fried.

Twenty minutes ago, it was already past 1 AM. What was Yan Xiu doing at my house so late?

Thinking more carefully, it wasn’t a secret that he wasn’t home today. His mother had been in frequent contact with the Yan family lately; maybe she’d casually mentioned it to Lao Yan or Aunt Tang at some point today, and Yan Xiu might have overheard it.

Yu Sui stared blankly at the screen for a long time.

The window in the room wasn’t shut tightly, leaving a small crack for ventilation. Later, someone found the room stuffy and pulled the window open a bit wider, letting the outside wind seep through the gap.

Probably because there were many people inside, the room wasn’t cold. But the moment Yu Sui noticed the draft, he glanced at the window and suddenly felt he was missing a jacket.

He understood. Really.

Out there, some always say there aren’t that many coincidences in the world, while others insist there are.

Like Yan Xiu attending the same school as him, being in the same class, sitting next to him, and then suddenly becoming his elder brother from another family.

It was already rare enough for coincidences that had never occurred in the first sixteen or seventeen years of his life to pile up in a single year. He couldn’t possibly expect that just because he cared about Yan Xiu, Yan Xiu would happen to care about him too.

This was too sudden. Yu Sui had never been confused in any kind of chaos for too long, but that didn’t mean he was mentally prepared to face any changes—whether from himself or from the outside world.

He watched helplessly as the message he sent twenty minutes earlier became a message sent forty minutes earlier, and ultimately didn’t reply.

The next day, Yu Sui got up early. On his way out of Tang Bohu’s house, he took a picture of Tang Bohu lying in bed, his head wrapped up like a pig’s. He cropped it slightly and sent it to Yan Xiu.

Fish Can: [I came to see Hu Zi yesterday. What’s up?]

There was no reply.

Maybe Yan Xiu was still asleep, or maybe he’d seen it but hadn’t figured out how to respond. With many things, once the right moment to reply has passed, any later response loses its meaning.

After the fourth day of the Lunar New Year, Yu Jingyuan continued his business trips without pause.

This year, Yu Sui received five red envelopes at the Yu family home. Yu Jingyuan gave him one, one from Yuan Yu, and Yu Liao, Yu Zhen, Yu Si each gave him one. After visiting his grandparents and maternal grandparents, Yu Sui became a wealthy fish again.

The Lunar New Year holiday wasn’t long, totaling less than a month. In the final few days, Yu Sui, carrying a huge fortune, headed to Fucun village.

He’d visited once during the New Year’s Eve period, and since it hadn’t been long since then, the village children still remembered him, chattering and setting off firecrackers behind him.

With his bag slung over his shoulder, Yu Sui dashed upstairs and squeezed into Susu’s room. Competing for the low-legged desk.

When Yan Wuyan had a moment to spare, he shuffled over in his slippers and casually tossed his things in front of Yu Sui.

Yan Wuyan: “Calculate it yourself.”

“I can’t calculate it accurately.” Yu Sui glanced at the various items, then pulled out a large, sealed red envelope. “Master, please tell my fortune personally.”

The red envelope landed on the table, thick and weighty, pressed on the table, leaving Yan Wuyan momentarily speechless.

Perhaps due to the diverging paths he’d taken in life, Yan Wuyan often struggled to articulate his thoughts in a way that Yu Sui could understand.

Yu Sui waited for two seconds, then snatched the red envelope back himself, abruptly changing the subject: “Ge, I want to go work.”

“…”

This conversation had no place here. Without hesitation, Yan Wu Yan replied: “You can entertain your own wild ideas, but don’t go around saying things that could corrupt Susu.”

Yu Sui seemed to have a glimmer of hope, lifting his eyelids and looking at Yan Wuyan expectantly.

Yan Wuyan: “Don’t blame me when your dad breaks your legs.”

Yu Sui: “…”

He clicked his tongue, crossed his arms, and sprawled out in the chair, putting on a defiant air: “Then I’ll trouble you to read my fortune. Please.”

Young Master Yu’s “please” was worthless, but, surprisingly this time, Yan Wuyan actually nodded and said, “Alright.”

After speaking, he suddenly leaned in close to Yu Sui, propping himself on the table with a faint, teasing smile. “Tell me, why do you suddenly want to know about your love life?”

Susu’s small table wasn’t soundproof. Yu Sui’s phone, lying on the table, suddenly buzzed with vibrations, interrupting their conversation.

Yu Sui immediately fell silent and glanced at his phone.

It was an incoming call.

The caller was Yan Xiu.

Yu Sui suddenly didn’t want to have his fortune told anymore. He gestured that he was going to answer the phone, pressing the answer button as he walked outside.

That day after he got home, he heard that Lao Yan and Yan Xiu had actually visited his house the night before. They said that after going to the company, they saw some nice fruit on their way back, bought a lot, and then stopped by the Yu family’s house to deliver some. However, their stay was short.

His chat history with Yan Xiu ended still on that day. Yan Xiu asked about Tang Bohu’s situation, and Yu Sui answered truthfully. There was no further interaction after that.

This time, perhaps because his previous visit had been fruitless, Minister Yan had finally learned to call ahead.

Unfortunately, Yu Sui had moved to Fucun two days prior.

With Yu Jingyuan absent, all the trivial matters in Yandu were handled by Yu Liao and Yu Zhen. Lao Yan didn’t need to see them personally, so he casually tossed the contracts that required stamping to his son.

“Doesn’t Lao Yan have a secretary?” Yu Sui asked through the phone, puzzled. “Why send you?”

“There’s no need for him to make a special trip,” Yan Xiu said.

So sending you to come there isn’t a special trip?

Yu Sui pursed his lips, not voicing the question.

He felt Yan Xiu wanted to see him.

These words were on the tip of his tongue, but young master Yu couldn’t bring himself to ask.

He glanced casually out the window: “Yu Liao hasn’t been home lately, and Yu Zhen is probably sleeping, but she’ll be waking up soon. Just go inside and talk to Aunt Sun; you met her last time.”

This means that Yu Sui is out.

By the azure artificial lake, Yan Xiu leaned against the railing, a folder dangling from his fingers, along with two sheets of homework he’d forgotten to give Yu Sui.

The teacher hadn’t initially assigned this homework; it was only added later in the group chat. The young master’s laziness definitely hadn’t seen that message.

Yan Xiu lowered his eyes, fidgeting with his fingertips, and his brow furrowed imperceptibly.

Though he wasn’t adept at social interactions, he was naturally perceptive and couldn’t help but notice the faint sense of distance from the person on the other end.

But he said nothing.

When passing a fork in the road³路過岔口時 /lù guò chà kǒu shí/: when passing a junction or crossroads., Yan Xiu took a picture of it.

Yu Sui replied quickly.

[Turn right. Haven’t you been here before, Minister?]

As for the homework, Yu Sui had learned from Yu Zhen that he had two more assignments, and immediately sent Yan Xiu an emoji.

[You scoundrel, you harbor malicious intentions].jpg

It seemed no different from usual.

On the other end, after finishing the call, Yu Sui could no longer find Yan Wuyan. Yan Wuyan was as busy as his CEO father, handling countless matters daily.

But all the tools Yan Wuyan used for his trickery were still on the table. YHaving once observed Yan Wuyan’s deceptive methods, Yu Sui, with a hint of curiosity, decided to learn how to use them.

He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, closed his eyes, and after a long pause, wrote two words on the paper.

Yu Sui couldn’t remember what this “deciphering“ was all about. He stared blankly for a moment, then took out his phone and started searching.

The explanations online were all sorts of bizarre, with some people even creating forums dedicated to it. But ultimately, they all followed a similar line, converging on a generally accepted answer.

A moment later, Yu Sui silently turned off the screen.

He had been troubled for a long time—with no way out— and had given up on Doraemon, turning instead to Eastern metaphysics as a last-ditch effort.

Now that his last hope had failed, Yu Sui was too lazy to harbor any more illusions.

Susu ran in from outside, sporting curly hair and dragging his long cotton coat and trousers on the floor, only to be grabbed by Yu Sui.

“What?” Susu looked up.

Yu Sui ruffled his hair.

“Let’s go,” Yu Sui said, “Come with me to get a haircut.”

 

Translator’s note:

Hi! This is the chapter where I stopped (from my previous site). Thank you to all readers who wait for this chapter! If you have any extras, please donate kofi! *kneels*