Ji An was usually very busy with work, as he was an interior designer.
Right after graduating from college, he found a job as a designer’s assistant that paid only two thousand a month. At that time, he was also supporting You Fu, covering both of their living expenses and rent. That salary was far from enough to cover the costs of living in a big city. Unable to touch his mother’s inheritance, he had no choice but to humbly ask his father for help.
But all he received were curses and insults. Back then, You Fu was only thirteen, and his father asked if he was attracted to You Fu’s face, just like his mother had been, and whether he was sleeping with You Fu at night.
He even went as far as to accuse him of being like his mother, eager to serve the two of them.
Ji An could only grit his teeth and swallow his shredded pride, borrowing money from friends, taking out online loans, and scraping together whatever he could just to gain a foothold in the city.
During that time, life was tough for Ji An. He often stayed up late working overtime, revising plans repeatedly, putting on a smile for clients, and budgeting meticulously. He kept an eye on the prices at the market and supermarket, waiting for discounts or price drops.
Every penny had to be split in half, one half for himself, the other for You Fu.
After several years of hard work, his financial situation finally improved. Now he could earn tens of thousands a month, had saved some money, and rented a larger apartment near the company. He and You Fu no longer had to share a bedroom.
Today, there was a company dinner. Ji An didn’t care for the flattery at the table. He drank very little, quietly eating and occasionally exchanging a few words with his colleague Xun Yi.
The director, however, called him out: "Xiao An, you’re usually the quietest one in the design department. Why are you so reserved even while eating? Relax and socialize more with your colleagues."
All eyes at the table turned to him.
Ji An smiled and pointed to a plate of sweet and sour pork that hadn’t been touched much: "If no one wants this, I’ll take it to go."
The table erupted in laughter.
The director teased him: "I asked you to talk, not to ask for things. If you like it, just eat it here. Why take it to go?"
Ji An replied, "To feed the dog."
Ji An couldn’t escape the pressure to drink, and he returned home slightly tipsy, struggling to enter the correct password several times.
He rubbed his temples, ready to try again.
A cool breeze blew, and the door opened.
Still a bit dazed, Ji An bent down to try entering the password again.
Just as his hand was about to touch the person in front of him, a pale hand caught his wrist.
"Have you been drinking?"
Ji An straightened up and glanced at the person in front of him, sobering up a bit. He tossed the takeout box he was holding to him and pushed past him into the house.
You Fu saw that it was a box of sweet and sour pork, so he went to the kitchen to get chopsticks and prepared to eat.
Ji An had long known that You Fu didn’t like sweet food. Whenever he brought him food, he deliberately chose sweet dishes, and he often cooked sweet meals at home. If You Fu didn’t eat, he could go hungry. After all, You Fu had money to eat out, and the kid could cook for himself. Ji An didn’t care whether You Fu ate at the same table with him or not.
Yet, You Fu was always obedient in front of him, eating whatever Ji An gave him.
Even once, when Ji An picked up a strawberry that had fallen on the floor and shoved it into his mouth as a joke, You Fu still ate it.
Ji An made himself a cup of honey water and, upon returning, saw You Fu quietly eating. He let out a derisive laugh, crossing his legs as he leaned against the dining table.
In his memory, You Fu was a strange person, seemingly born without a temper, like an emotionless machine that did whatever he was told.
When You Fu had just started high school, the tuition at City No. 1 High School was expensive, and Ji An was financially strained. He casually remarked, "Spending so much money, you might as well not go to high school."
So on the day of registration, You Fu really didn’t go to school.
If Ji An hadn’t happened to be off that day and scolded him into going, the kid probably wouldn’t have gone to school at all.
Even though he was admitted to the school as the top student in the entrance exam.
So obedient that Ji An couldn’t help but stroke his face with a bent finger, praising, "You’re a good dog."
You Fu swallowed the food he found hard to endure, looked at Ji An’s delicate features, and spoke lightly, "Isn’t this what you wanted?"
"What I wanted?" Ji An grabbed his hair and pulled back, the slight smile on his face vanishing as his thoughts drifted back to the scene of his mother stroking You Fu’s head. "It sounds like you’re pitying me. What I truly wanted has long been out of reach, you know that, don’t you?"
Feeling the pain of his scalp being pulled, You Fu didn’t resist, just met his gaze.
Ji An hated his eyes, so calm that it felt like his outbursts were pebbles sinking into the sea without a sound.
"Close your eyes."
You Fu closed his eyes.
Ji An pressed vindictively on the bruise at the corner of his mouth before letting him go.
With a crash, the honey water on the table spilled to the floor as Ji An moved away, the glass shattering, the honey water splashing onto You Fu’s feet.
Ji An ignored it and walked back to his room.
After finishing his meal, You Fu picked up the glass shards from the floor, piece by piece, into the trash can. The fragments pricked his fingertips, but he seemed unaware, letting the bright red drops fall to the ground.
Even though the broom was in the bathroom, he seemed possessed, picking up the pieces by hand, as if only this stinging pain could slightly release the gloom in his heart, even if just a little.
As Ji An’s burden, You Fu knew well how to suppress and comply.
He brewed another cup of honey water, went to Ji An’s door, and knocked: "Brother."
Ji An’s voice was muffled: "Go away."
There was no sound outside the door for a long time.
Just when Ji An thought he had left, the door suddenly opened, and the boy’s tall figure blocked most of the incoming light.
"You little brat, are you looking for trouble?"
Ji An turned over, considering which hand to use to slap the intruder into his private space.
Backlit, he couldn’t see You Fu’s expression, only watching him slowly approach and place a cup on the bedside table.
"Honey water."
Ji An propped himself up and kicked him: "Did I let you in? I don’t need your favors."
You Fu replied, "I’ll go kneel."
In the brief moment Ji An was taken aback, he had already left and closed the door.
There were no more footsteps outside the door. Ji An touched the cup, feeling the temperature just right, neither hot nor cold, just as he liked it.
He paused for a moment, then went to open the door.
You Fu was kneeling at the door, his back slightly hunched, quietly like a numb puppet.
Ji An studied him for a while, then lifted his chin: "I’ve realized, you…"
He pointed to You Fu’s head: "There’s something wrong up here."
You Fu’s deep eyes stared at him unblinkingly: "I made you unhappy."
So he thought he was unhappy and voluntarily knelt on the ground to be punished, quite obedient.
Ji An chuckled lightly for a moment, then released him and went into the room to find a leather bag, pulling out a wad of cash and tossing it at You Fu like a reward: "Since it’s to make me happy, here’s a reward. Now get lost, my good younger brother, and stop being an eyesore."
You Fu picked up the bills one by one, stuffing them into his pocket, then stood up using the door frame: "Honey water, it helps with the hangover, remember to drink it."
Ji An glanced down at his knees with interest: "Do I need your reminder? Your knees are quite worthless, kneeling at the drop of a hat. Why didn’t you kneel when you fought with that bully yesterday? If you had knelt and begged him, maybe it wouldn’t have escalated to the teacher calling a parent."
You Fu’s fingers gripping the door frame turned pale, and he told him, "I’ve only ever knelt to you."
"Do you want to kneel to someone else?"
"No, you said it."
"What’s wrong with your hand?" Ji An caught a faint scent of blood, following it to see You Fu’s hand on the door frame, a bit of blood seeping from his fingers.
Reminded by him, You Fu felt the ignored sting: "Just a scratch."
"There’s new medicine in the drawer, bandage it up, and clean the blood off my door frame."
You Fu used an alcohol wipe to clean the bloodstains from the door frame, then wiped the moisture with a tissue. Instead of bandaging his hand immediately, he stood at the door and said to Ji An, who was lying on the bed, "There’s a parent-teacher meeting tomorrow."
Their school held a parent-teacher meeting at the end of each semester, and Ji An was usually too busy with work to attend.
The only time he went to a parent-teacher meeting was when You Fu was in his first year of high school. You Fu had excellent grades, and Ji An, as the parent of an outstanding student, was invited by the homeroom teacher to share his experiences in raising a student.
Ji An casually copied an essay from the internet to read, inadvertently including someone else’s name. After reading "Zhang Tian" twice, he suddenly realized his mistake.
He simply went all in and read the entire essay with "Zhang Tian" in it, then added a lie: "My brother used to have his father’s surname, Zhang Tian. After our parents divorced and he was awarded to our mother, he changed his name to You Fu. After our mother passed away, he was left to me, and I’m still getting used to his new name."
The parents in the audience covered their mouths, moved to tears.
The homeroom teacher removed her glasses to wipe her tears, never imagining that You Fu had been through so much and was still so outstanding. No wonder he was always so quiet and reserved.
It was truly inspiring!
They didn’t question why a boy would be named Zhang Tian or why the brothers had different surnames.
Seeing their reactions, Ji An found it quite amusing.
When You Fu returned to the classroom, he felt the homeroom teacher’s gaze was strange. She even came over to pat his shoulder and said earnestly, "The teacher knows everything. You’re a good kid. If you ever have any problems, don’t keep them to yourself. Tell the teacher, and the teacher will help you solve them."
You Fu was baffled, but thinking Ji An might have said something ridiculous, he nodded.
That day, after school, it was the first time You Fu saw Ji An smile at him so genuinely.
His eyes curved into shallow crescents, his thin lips curled with a faint smile, and the long lashes reflected a bit of light, dazzling under the streetlamp.
At this moment, Ji An in the bedroom didn’t respond, lying quietly as if asleep. The honey water on the bedside table remained at its original level, untouched.
You Fu withdrew his gaze and closed the door for him.