Volume 1, Chapter 19: Served You Right

Hearing Fu Che’s voice, Jiang Yan hurried out of the room.

Fu Yuan had been running a high fever since last night, burning for an entire day and night. It was only after medicine and a doctor’s visit that his temperature finally broke. He was no longer the chubby, fair-skinned child with deep dimples he had been when he first arrived; now, his little face was sallow and gaunt, with dark, bruised-looking circles under his eyes.

It was bad enough that he was constantly falling ill, but every time he woke up, he would cry for his mother. She couldn't bear to tell him that his mother had been taken away by bad people, so she could only say that she had turned into a star in the sky.

Whenever she urged Fu Heng to come home more often to see the child, he would only offer a cold, indifferent smile. On the rare occasions he did return, hearing that the boy was looking for his mother, he would simply retort, "You like your godmother anyway, even more than your own mother. As you wish, look for your godmother from now on."

Afterward, he would lock himself in his room, obsessively looking at his wife’s photographs or tidying her clothes. Sometimes, he would appear silently behind her, his eyes bloodshot and terrifying, nearly stopping her heart.

"Mom, did you hear Xuanxuan? It sounds like she's crying."

She had been forced to call Song Feiqing over to reason with him and drag him to see a doctor. At first, Fu Heng insisted he was perfectly fine, claiming there was nothing wrong with him. Fortunately, Song Feiqing proved reliable at a critical moment, saying, "When your wife comes back and sees you acting like a madman, having even lost your job, it would be a miracle if she didn't run away." Only then did he agree to go to the hospital to get some medication.

Back home now, he would occasionally help look after Fu Yuan or take him to the doctor, but he remained a walking corpse, devoid of any expression, which only made Fu Yuan reluctant to be around him. Consequently, she had no free time at all, constantly revolving around this sick child. What depressed her most was that the more she cared for him, the thinner he grew.

Looking at Jiang Yan’s pale face, Fu Che felt a pang of sympathy. "Mom, how did you let yourself get like this?"

At the sight of Fu Che, tears welled up in Jiang Yan’s eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but upon catching sight of the petite, beautiful girl behind him, her expression brightened instantly. She hurriedly wiped away her tears. "I’m fine, Mom is fine. It’s just that the boy has been sick often; his fever has broken, and he’s sleeping upstairs now."

With that, she affectionately took Bai Xuanxuan’s hand and led her into the house. "I heard from Che’er that you’re called Shanshan. What a lovely name. What time did your train arrive? How long was the trip? You must be exhausted."

Bai Xuanxuan replied politely, and Jiang Yan nodded repeatedly, listening intently. Once inside, they passed Fu Che’s room on the ground floor and stopped at a guest room next to it.

"This large room is for you, and I’ll take the smaller one next door. The bedding is all brand new; see if you like it."

"If you don't like it, I'll take you to buy new ones tomorrow."

Bai Xuanxuan felt embarrassed and tried to decline. "The small room is fine for me; there’s no need for such a large bed."

Fu Che scratched his head, looking troubled. "But... everything in there is pink. It would be a bit strange for me to sleep in it."

Bai Xuanxuan took a look and didn't insist further.

That night, in a half-dreaming state, she seemed to hear Yuan-yuan’s voice. He was crying and calling for his mother. She woke up suddenly, her heart gripped by a sharp pang. She had thought about calling Yuan-yuan, but she wasn't ready to face Fu Heng yet. He was likely living with Shen Wen by now, along with Yuan-yuan. They were a happy family of three. As an outsider, she shouldn't interfere and risk being a nuisance. Yuan-yuan often said he liked his godmother, Shen Wen; children wouldn't lie, so Shen Wen must be good to him. It was surely just her own excessive worrying.

In her past life, after she and his father parted ways, she never saw the child again. Later, Fu Yuan studied abroad and returned as a professor at the Chinese Academy of Sciences. He had clearly lived a wonderful life without a mother like her. He probably felt the same way he did in her past life—hating her and wanting nothing to do with her. After all, she was a failure who couldn't even keep her own husband.

She sat up and listened intently, but the surroundings were silent. Nothing. It must have been her own longing for the child.

She got up to get a drink of water in the kitchen. Since she had just arrived, she didn't know where the light switch was and had to grope her way through the dark. That was when she saw someone sitting in the shadows of the living room, surrounded by a haze of white smoke. Even without seeing the ashtray, she could guess it was filled to the brim with cigarette butts.

The man kept his head low, his face obscured. He looked profoundly lonely, holding a reflective photograph in his hands. Her brother-in-law seemed quite pathetic. *Oh well,* she thought, *you reap what you sow. Serves you right.*

Recalling that Fu Che said he was unwell, Bai Xuanxuan subconsciously kept her distance and didn't dare to speak to him. She quickly poured a glass of water and hurried back to her room. Even though she walked softly, her small footsteps seemed amplified a thousand times in the deathly silence.

As Fu Che opened the door, she was just about to step inside. He patted her head. "Are you thirsty?"

Bai Xuanxuan nodded. She felt the man in the living room was terrifying, like a dormant beast, and she was too scared to make a sound. Fu Che squeezed her arm, offering a warm, reassuring smile. "Don't be afraid, I'm right next door. Go to sleep, and call me if you need anything."

After closing her door, Fu Che walked toward the living room, pulling out a chair with a frown. "It's the middle of the night, why are you sitting here? If you want to lose your mind, go do it outside; don't scare people in the house. Shanshan is timid; don't frighten her."

Fu Heng stopped mid-motion, his cigarette poised, and let out a scoff. Even his older brother had a woman now, while he had been searching for three or four months without even a glimpse of his wife. A bitter sourness rose in his chest, making his insides ache.

His voice was as flat as a machine devoid of emotion. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

Fu Che sighed. Fu Heng had grown up with him; no matter how much they quarreled or fought, they were still blood. Seeing his brother like this, his tone softened. "It's almost the New Year. Where are you planning to run off to? Don't you know Mom’s health is failing? Are you going to spend the New Year alone on the streets?"

Fu Heng’s voice was raspy. "I'm going to Yingcheng to look. It’s close to Qingshui Village; she’s very likely to go there." His voice was faint, as if drained of all strength. "I've searched everywhere around here, and everyone says they haven't seen her. Do you know? She didn't take anything when she left, just a single coat. It was snowing outside, so cold. She was always so afraid of the cold; she used to hold a hot water bottle every night."

The man’s voice gradually sank into a sob, but he finally rubbed his brow, forcing back his vulnerability.

Fu Che took his cigarettes away. "Smoke less. I remember you saying she hates the smell of smoke. If you go to Yingcheng looking like this, she’ll run the moment she sees you."

Fu Heng kept his eyes shut for a long time before squeezing out a single sentence: "Brother, I'm in so much pain."

He sat up straight and looked at Fu Che. "You've been in Yingcheng for so long... have you ever seen a girl? With big eyes, very fair skin, and deep dimples when she smiles?"