He lost his mother at birth, his father in childhood, and as an adult, his only remaining family member left him too.
Though he didn’t quite understand what he was feeling now, he knew he wanted to stand by Song Xun’s side, to accompany him.
After hearing this, Song Xun chuckled softly, “Don’t tell me you’re missing me, hahaha.”
There was another stretch of silence on the other end. Song Xun thought he might have gone too far with the joke and quickly changed the subject, telling him to get some sleep. Mu Heng replied with a simple “Okay.”
Before dawn broke, Song Xun left the hotel and hurried to his own residential complex. Good—the old geezer was still asleep.
Seizing the opportunity, he rushed to the place where the original owner used to live.
Sneaking around, he radiated an air of stealth, turning without watching where he was going. Bang! He collided hard with something, his nose and ribs aching sharply. Looking up, he saw it was Yan Jiayu.
Song Xun covered his nose, wiping it slightly. Luckily, there was no nosebleed.
“Teacher Yan, what are you doing here?”
Yan Jiayu didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed Song Xun’s arm. “Come with me.”
Song Xun was puzzled but followed his gaze forward. Several people with cameras had gathered at the entrance of the complex, crouching and filming Liu Fumin.
The old geezer was sleeping soundly, scratching his butt, completely unaware he was being recorded.
Wow, these people were here to stake him out.
As the economic and political center, the capital city was filled with towering skyscrapers, row upon row. But hidden among them were the unknown urban villages—shabby, dilapidated, and old.
He and Yan Jiayu made their way to the original owner’s former home, the place where Liu Fumin lived.
There wasn’t even a parking spot nearby. They had to walk through the alley on foot.
The alley was dark and damp, with ivy crawling up the windows and covering the entire courtyard.
The location of this alley was actually quite good—close to schools and markets—but it was also a mixed bag of people, bustling and chaotic.
Both of them wore masks. The people here were busy with their own affairs, paying no attention to them.
“This is it.”
Song Xun pointed to the courtyard in front of them. It had two floors, small and clearly showing its age.
The courtyard wall was topped with broken glass shards for theft prevention.
Though there was nothing of value inside, Liu Fumin’s anti-theft awareness was impressive. The door was secured with several locks, as if fearing a burglar’s visit.
The “burglars” were discussing how to get in. Yan Jiayu suggested climbing over the wall and buying gloves nearby to avoid getting cut.
Song Xun shook his head. That would be too conspicuous. If someone passing by saw them, whether they called the police or notified Liu Fumin, it wouldn’t end well.
After thinking it over, he decided to use this trick.
Yan Jiayu watched as Song Xun walked away. A moment later, he returned with a small box of black hairpins. Yan Jiayu was skeptical, but then he saw Song Xun take one out, bend it open, and poke it into the keyhole.
“You know how to do this too?”
Song Xun raised an eyebrow. “I filmed a similar scene once. The director said we should strive for perfection, preferably actually picking the lock, so I learned how.”
But as soon as he finished speaking, Song Xun realized that was something from before he transmigrated. Worried Yan Jiayu might notice something off, he glanced up, only to see admiration and praise in his eyes.
Several minutes later, all three locks were finally picked.
The lock looked intimidating, but it wasn’t actually hard to pick.
Once the door opened, Song Xun and Yan Jiayu hurried inside and closed it behind them.
The yard was a mess—Liu Fumin had never bothered to spend time tidying it up. Back when the original owner’s mother was still alive, the yard had been filled with carefully tended flowers that bloomed beautifully. Now, weeds grew everywhere, and the flowerbeds were littered with cigarette butts and beer bottles.
Pushing open the inner door, they went straight up to the second floor, the old wooden door creaking with each step.
Since the original owner had moved out, the room had been used by Liu Fumin as a storage space, piled high with clutter and covered in dust.
“Let’s split up and search. Look for things like diaries or old photos if possible.”
“Okay.”
In the storage room, there was a box pressed under a cabinet. When Yan Jiayu opened it, he found it filled with all kinds of children’s toys, though some were already broken.
Song Xun only found a few diaries and homework notebooks. Flipping through them, he felt a strange sense of novelty—the original owner’s handwriting was strikingly similar to his own, almost as if they were written by the same person.
The diary was thick, but after skimming through it, he found no mention of Liu Fumin at all. Instead, it was filled with entries about the mother buying him delicious food or fun toys.
Perhaps this diary was written before the original owner’s mother remarried Liu Fumin.
Finding no relevant information, Song Xun sighed. Hearing his sigh, Yan Jiayu comforted him, “It’s okay, we’ll definitely find something.”
“Mm.”
Song Xun didn’t limit himself to the room and instead went to the living room, pulling out drawers one by one to search.
As he rummaged, he discovered a bankbook. The first page bore the name Bai Yuzhi—the original owner’s mother.
“How is it that my mother’s name is the same too? What a coincidence.”
Song Xun muttered to himself as he continued flipping through the bankbook.
Looking further, each expenditure amount was roughly the same, and based on the dates, they mostly occurred in February and September. The other scattered expenses were fixed for specific times each month.
Song Xun was slightly surprised. Could it be that the original owner’s tuition and living expenses during his studies were actually provided by his mother, while Liu Fumin’s claims of spending so much money on him were all lies?
Before he could search the other cabinets, Yan Jiayu strode out with long steps, looking delighted.
“Song Xun, look!”
He looked up.
In Yan Jiayu’s hand was a household register. When opened, it turned out to be Liu Fumin’s.
“Here, Liu Fumin is listed as unmarried. That means he and your mother never officially registered their marriage, so there’s no legal relationship between them. You have no obligation to support him.”
Song Xun snatched the household register. It was true, but what infuriated him was that the original owner had given Liu Fumin so much money, even though his studies and living expenses had been covered by his mother.
That old scoundrel had been bragging all along about how much money he spent and how much effort he put in, but in reality, he was just a freeloader who shamelessly took advantage of others!
Overjoyed, Song Xun clenched his fists. He was determined to make Liu Fumin pay back every single penny.
Unnoticed, it was already afternoon, and it was time for them to leave. After putting everything back in place, they were about to head out when they heard a noise.
“Creak—”
Yan Jiayu grabbed Song Xun and pulled him back inside, hiding in the storage room.
Liu Fumin reeked of alcohol, still clutching a bottle of baijiu in his hand. He scratched his belly, his mind foggy from drinking, not even registering how the lock to his house had been opened. He pushed the door and walked in.
“Mmm, good stuff, damn good stuff!”
The drunkard was thoroughly intoxicated, his steps unsteady and floating, yet he didn’t idle around, heading straight for the second floor.
“Thump, thump.”
Footsteps echoed on the wooden floorboards, oppressive and tense.
Yan Jiayu and Song Xun hid inside a cabinet in the storage room. In the cramped, narrow space, both could hear each other’s breathing.
Liu Fumin’s alcoholic stench permeated the air; even through the cabinet door, Song Xun could smell that foul odor.
Sour, disgusting, nauseating—the kind that made you want to vomit.
Inside the dark cabinet, Yan Jiayu and Song Xun were pressed tightly together. In other words, Song Xun was practically enveloped in Yan Jiayu’s embrace.
Liu Fumin paced around the living room on the second floor, turned on the TV without paying attention to what was playing, just listening to the noise. Leaning back on the sofa, he suddenly started shouting.
“Damn it, ah!”
Like a madman.
Yan Jiayu and Song Xun had only heard the TV earlier—it seemed to be a public affairs channel—but suddenly hearing the man’s cursing from outside the room, both couldn’t help but frown.
Yan Jiayu couldn’t imagine what kind of life Song Xun had endured before.
The courtyards in this alley were all closely packed. When these old houses were built, soundproofing wasn’t a consideration, so even slightly louder noises could be heard by the neighbors.
Liu Fumin’s cursing annoyed the auntie next door. With permed hair, a cigarette dangling from her mouth, and wearing green plastic slippers, she slammed her door several times.
“Liu Fumin! What are you yelling about so late at night?! Can’t you let people sleep?!”
Most people weren’t actually asleep at this hour, but the auntie was fed up—this old man made noise every night without fail.
The auntie was a formidable character herself. In her younger years, she ran a hair salon and knew many underworld figures. Fierce and unafraid of trouble, she never backed down.
Liu Fumin heard someone actually cursing at him?!
His expression darkened, and with alcohol still on his breath, he headed downstairs, not forgetting to bring his baijiu bottle.
“Who the hell are you?! What are you blabbering about, you damn hag? Don’t think I won’t lay a hand on you!”
The auntie crossed her arms, spat out her cigarette on the ground, and sneered contemptuously.
“Oh, you want to lay a hand on me? You think I’m your dead wife? Let me tell you, if you don’t keep your tail tucked and behave, I’ll make sure you regret it!”
The two faced off, neither backing down. Other neighbors, hearing the commotion, came out to mediate.
A peacemaker stepped in, saying they were all longtime neighbors and should keep things civil for the sake of harmony.
But neither the drunkard nor the shrew was willing to back down. Eventually, community mediators arrived and, after much persuasion, managed to calm things down. Everyone then returned to their homes.
Yan Jiayu and Song Xun had thought Liu Fumin might have left since they hadn’t heard any noise from him. Just as they emerged from the cabinet, they unexpectedly found Liu Fumin returning.
Both were startled and immediately ducked back into the cabinet, shutting the door tightly.
Liu Fumin snorted coldly. He simply couldn’t stand women, thinking that if it weren’t for the community mediators stepping in, he would’ve beaten her senseless.
Staggering into the storage room, Song Xun kicked the cabinet and suddenly began trembling uncontrollably, overwhelmed by fear. He felt a chill run through him, his heart shuddering as if he had experienced this scene before.
A flicker of ruthlessness flashed in Yan Jiayu’s eyes, but noticing the distress of the person beside him, he immediately wrapped his arms around him and whispered gently by his ear.
“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid.”
The man outside was like a demon, refusing to leave. Gritting his teeth, Yan Jiayu took advantage of Liu Fumin turning his back to the cabinet, pushed it open, and before Liu could react, delivered a fierce chop to his shoulder.
The man collapsed unconscious on the floor. Without hesitation, Yan Jiayu pulled Song Xun out, and they ran downstairs, exiting the courtyard.
Throughout the journey, Song Xun remained dazed and disoriented.
Seeing his poor mental state, Yan Jiayu refrained from asking too many questions, afraid of triggering unpleasant memories.
“You shouldn’t go home for the next few days. Why not stay at my place instead?”