Chaрtеr 11: Therе Are Маnу Тhings Не Dislikes, Ехсeрt for Jiаng Er and Неr Little Вell
Аftеr а long whilе, Fu Тinghan rаisеd his hаnd аnd slоwlу рut on his hеaring аid.
In аn instant, the wind began tо howl.
Сlouds сhurnеd, riррles sprеad aсrоss thе distаnt cаlm lakе, birds leaреd frоm brаnсhes, аnd leaves driftеd dоwn quiеtlу.
Нe was reсоnnеctеd to this wоrld.
“…Fu Tinghan?”
Suddеnlу, а girl’s сrisp voiсе brushed pаst his ear, сhееrful уet tingеd with а hint of nervousness, like the melоdious sоng оf аn оriоle.
It sоunded just as plеasаnt as hе remеmbered.
“Can you hear me now?” she asked again.
Fu Tinghan softly hummed in acknowledgment.
Finally able to communicate normally, Jiang Er breathed a sigh of relief, wiping the fine sweat from the tip of her nose and accidentally leaving a smudge of dirt there.
“You probably don’t know who I am yet, right? My name is Jiang Er—Jiang as in ginger, and Er is the character with a jade radical next to the character for ear.”
Fu Tinghan remained silent.
“There’s something I want to ask you,” she said seriously.
Fu Tinghan: “What?”
His voice was clear and crisp, as pleasant as the sound of jade breaking.
Jiang Er was stunned. “You can already speak now?”
Fu Tinghan paused before replying, “I lost my hearing later in life. With the hearing aid on, I can speak.”
Jiang Er suddenly understood.
She had thought that in her past life, Fu Tinghan had learned to speak through special training, but it turned out to be for this reason.
She wondered what had happened to him that caused him to lose his hearing…
“What did you want to ask?” Fu Tinghan said.
Jiang Er was about to speak when she suddenly remembered something and glanced at her watch.
Class would start in half a minute.
She took a deep breath, grabbed his hand, and started running. “We’ll talk later! Class is about to start, there’s no time!”
The howling wind brushed past their ears, accompanied by the jingling of a silver bell.
Fu Tinghan gazed at the faint, moonbeam-like glow in the girl’s dark hair, as if pebbles had been dropped into a deep pond, gentle ripples spreading in his eyes.
He disliked all the sounds in this world.
Except for Jiang Er.
And her little bell.
…
No matter how hard they ran, they were still late for class.
Amidst the clear sound of students reading aloud, Jiang Er knocked on the door.
“Reporting.”
This was Teacher Wang’s Chinese class. He stopped writing on the blackboard, stood on the podium, and looked coldly at the two at the door.
“What were you doing?”
Just as Fu Tinghan was about to speak, Jiang Er subtly blocked him and spoke first.
“I wasn’t feeling well, so I asked Fu Tinghan to take me to the infirmary.”
After saying this, she clutched her chest and coughed as if her lungs were about to burst.
An old fox like Teacher Wang could easily see through her act.
Remembering the building under construction, he decided to play dumb for once.
“Come in. Next time, ask for leave earlier if you’re not feeling well.”
“Okay, thank you, Teacher.”
Jiang Er and Fu Tinghan took their seats, receiving countless ambiguous glances along the way.
Little Fatty looked especially conflicted.
Jiang Er: ?
It was just pretending to be sick, no need for such a reaction.
She refused to believe none of them had ever faked an illness before.
Soon, while Teacher Wang’s back was turned, a paper ball flew over with a “whoosh.”
Little Fatty gestured toward Jiang Er with his chin.
She quickly unfolded it.
[Did you hit Lin Ling today?!]
Jiang Er: “”
Seriously? It’s already spread to the class?
But there was clearly no one who knew her at the scene.
[How do you know?] She wrote on the same piece of paper, then flicked her wrist and accurately tossed it onto Little Fatty’s desk.
The paper ball flew back again.
[It’s all over the forum. Oh my god, you’re so brave!]
Forum?Jiang Er suddenly remembered that No. 3 High School allowed students to bring phones to school.
It was probably taken by those onlookers.
She wanted to check what exactly was written but didn’t have her phone, so she nudged Fu Tinghan beside her:
“Let me borrow your phone.”
Fu Tinghan paused his note-taking and said quietly:
“I don’t have one.”
Jiang Er hissed through her teeth.
Truly a VIP-level customer of the scrap collection station.
Even in high school, no matter how poor the family was, they’d at least get a second-hand phone, right?
She was starting to believe the story about him fighting an old man on the street for bottles was true.
It seemed she needed to hurry up with sending him back to the Fu family.
But before that…
She patted his shoulder and whispered:
“I’ve decided.”
Fu Tinghan was puzzled: “Decided what?”
Jiang Er declared with righteous determination: “I’ve decided to take you on as my underling.”
Fu Tinghan didn’t expect her to say that and was momentarily speechless.
Jiang Er sighed deeply.
Originally, she really had planned to draw a clear line with Fu Tinghan and keep her distance.
But he was just too pitifully miserable.
In her past life, although their marriage wasn’t exactly traditionally happy, she lived quite comfortably on the three million monthly allowance he gave her.
—Not to mention he dug her out of the ground.
And now, Fu Tinghan was practically someone anyone—or even any dog—could step on. If she didn’t help him, her already limited conscience would probably make her sit up in the middle of the night and slap herself twice.
“Before you go back… I’ll have your back,” she said with a stern face. “But don’t overthink it. I’m not doing this for any other reason—it’s just because you’re my deskmate, and I’m protective of my own.”
No condescending superiority or pity.
Just protectiveness.
Fu Tinghan remained silent for a long time.
“What, you don’t want to?” Jiang Er puffed up angrily. “Do you think being my underling is beneath you?”
A flicker of panic flashed in Fu Tinghan’s eyes: “No, I don’t.”
She instantly smiled. “Then it’s settled.”
Fu Tinghan rubbed his fingertips, lowered his gaze, and softly replied, “Mhm.”
Jiang Er glanced at Old Wang on the podium, propped up her Chinese textbook to cover the lower half of her face, and whispered:
“I’m going to ask you a question, and you have to answer honestly.”
Fu Tinghan: “What?”
Jiang Er cleared her throat: “Do you think you’re your mother’s biological child?”
Fu Tinghan: “……”
After a moment, he replied quietly, “I think… I probably am.”
Jiang Er rephrased her question: “Do you look like your parents? Have they ever said anything like ‘you were picked up from a trash can’ to you?”
This time, Fu Tinghan fell silent for even longer.
Just as Jiang Er thought he wouldn’t answer, his hoarse voice reached her ear:
“I look a lot like my mom. She… has already passed away. But when she was alive, she probably never said anything like that. As for my dad…”
He didn’t continue.
Jiang Er’s heart sank, and she stammered:
“S-sorry, I didn’t know…”
He shook his head, clearly not wanting to talk about it anymore.
Silence fell between them, and neither spoke again.
The bell for the end of class rang.
Old Wang slowly packed up his things and left, and the previously quiet classroom suddenly became lively.
Little Fatty rushed over excitedly but was startled by the atmosphere between the two. He tried several times to speak but couldn’t, then slunk back to his seat.Until the end of the school day, Fu Tinghan packed up his bag and nodded to Jiang Er:
“See you tomorrow.”
Jiang Er closed her textbook: “Mm, see you tomorrow.”
She watched his departing figure through the glass window—as always, slender and exuding an aloof chill that kept others at a distance.
Fu Tinghan really seemed to have suffered a lot.
She slung her backpack over her shoulder, unconsciously frowning.
Since he resembled this mother so much, what exactly was going on with the Fu family?
And his father—why was he so reluctant to mention him?
“What’s up with Fu Tinghan?” Little Fatty hesitantly sidled over, walking alongside her out of the classroom. “Did you two have a fight?”
Jiang Er slumped her shoulders. “No.”
“Then why do you two seem so weird?” He bounded down the stairs two steps at a time, then turned back to wait for Jiang Er, who was moving slowly.
With three steps left, Jiang Er jumped down with both feet together, landing steadily. “Do we?”
“Yeah,” he said. “But I’ve never seen Fu Tinghan take the initiative to talk to anyone before. It’s really strange that he just greeted you.”
Jiang Er kicked a small pebble at her feet, her tone casual and breezy:
“Oh, I forgot to mention—he’s my little brother now.”