Fu Xinling angrily smashed the photo frame onto the floor.
The glass shattered, slicing across the photo, tearing through Fu Chuan’s smiling face.
Only then did Fu Xinling clearly see the picture in the frame.
Because Fu Zichen had been upset by Fu Chuan, she had been too furious to even look carefully.
Now seeing it, a hint of panic rose in her chest.
In Fu Chuan’s mind, how important were these family members?
Otherwise, why would he have gone to such lengths to please them so humbly?
This was the only family photo that included Fu Chuan and the Fu family—a treasured possession for him.
And now, Fu Xinling had destroyed it.
She racked her brain, trying to think of something to say.
“This is your mess. Clean it up and throw it in the trash. I haven’t finished my homework, and I have school tomorrow.”
Fu Chuan didn’t hesitate. He closed the door behind him, leaving Fu Xinling standing there, stunned.
Fu Chuan…
He didn’t care at all?
This was the family photo!
His only family photo!
Fu Chuan… really seemed different.
Realizing this possibility made Fu Xinling feel oddly suffocated inside.
The next day, Fu Chuan got up on time and went down for breakfast.
Fu Linger had to go to the company early, leaving only Fu Xinling, Fu Chuan, and Fu Zichen for breakfast.
Fu Xinling and Fu Zichen had gotten up earliest. She fussed over Zichen, making sure he was warm and fed.
Fu Chuan greeted them lightly and deliberately sat in a corner, keeping a distance from both.
Fu Zichen noticed, attributing the change to a sort of butterfly effect.
His rebirth had subtly influenced Fu Chuan’s personality—he no longer tried to please the family.
Fu Zichen didn’t think of Fu Chuan’s change as connected to his own rebirth; otherwise, how could Fu Chuan have casually given up the “Spring Landscape Painting” and the engagement to Qin Jian?
Good.
Fu Zichen had reclaimed what was rightfully his.
In this life, he could treat Qin Jian better, and once the Qin Group prospered, Fu Zichen would be the ultimate winner of life!
An existence Fu Chuan could never surpass.
The true young master of the Fu family, by blood, yet still crushed beneath Fu Zichen.
The one cherished by the family? Fu Zichen, not Fu Chuan. Even if Zichen’s life was short, he wouldn’t let Fu Chuan have it easy.
Fu Xinling bit into a piece of bread, realizing Fu Chuan had completely changed. He was now quiet and inscrutable… unlike the sly little brother who had once flattered them, Fu Chuan was frighteningly calm.
It was as if, in Fu Chuan’s world, they didn’t matter at all.
“Little brother Zichen, eat this—it’s good.”
“Drink more milk, it’s good for your health.”
“Have an egg for nutrition. You’re going into senior year, so take care of your body.”
Fu Xinling fussed over Zichen with all her effort.
Yet Fu Chuan didn’t spare her a single glance.
“I’m full.”
He packed up and grabbed his backpack, leaving.
Fu Xinling’s lips twitched. Suddenly she said, “Fu Chuan, I threw away what you had yesterday.”
She was referring to the family photo.
Before, when she had handed it to him, he had been overjoyed, even framing it prominently in his room.
Fu Xinling once saw him grinning foolishly at it—she had felt a wave of disgust.
Yes, the family photo had been Fu Chuan’s treasure…
“Throw it away then.”
Fu Chuan spoke coldly, disappearing from her sight.
Fu Xinling froze in place.
“Second sister, what did you throw away yesterday?”
Fu Zichen asked curiously.
“Nothing…”
Fu Xinling quickly drank some milk, trying to hide her strange emotions.
“By the way, little brother Zichen, didn’t you want to go to school with Fu Chuan? How can he leave without waiting for you?”
“Second sister, I haven’t finished eating yet. It’s fine. I can get to No.1 High by myself… cough cough.”
“You’re coughing again. When the family doctor comes, have him check you properly.”
Fu Zichen lowered his head in guilt: “Sorry, second sister. My body is too weak, always worrying you…”
“Silly child, you’re our brother. If we didn’t care about you, who would we care about?”
Fu Zichen snuggled happily into Fu Xinling’s arms, asking to meet Qin Jian to nurture their relationship.
Knowing his health, he realized canceling the engagement would selfishly make Fu Chuan marry someone he didn’t love. Fu Chuan had suffered enough; Zichen would bear it all.
Fu Xinling was so moved she nearly cried: “I’ll arrange for you two to meet. If you truly don’t like Qin Jian, don’t force yourself, understand?”
If Zichen weren’t terminally ill, she wouldn’t have allowed him to cancel the engagement. But now, Qin’s family couldn’t compare to Fu Zichen, and it would be unfair to him.
Later, Fu Chuan caught the bus and took a seat.
Looking out the window at familiar scenery, he took a deep breath.
To live. To selfishly live, thinking only of himself, abandoning unrealistic people and fantasies.
Life was far broader and brighter than he had imagined.
At the next stop, a striking figure boarded.
Wearing the G City No.1 High uniform, headphones on, holding a paperback novel.
Despite the chaotic variety of domestic uniforms, some people could look stunning in anything. Her ponytail tied with a red ribbon, the girl exuded a quiet charm, a faint fragrance, and her school skirt-clad legs… catching countless eyes.
Fu Chuan focused. It was the school beauty, Shen Shutang.
All the seniors called her “Senior Shen”—she was a repeating senior, a fourth-year student.
Shen Shutang was a famous online author. Her novels under the pen name had become hits, earning her a top-tier status despite being only seventeen—same age as Fu Chuan, yet worlds apart in achievement.
Her grades were excellent too. She had once skipped the college entrance exam to focus on her copyright projects, earning enough to be a full-time writer. Yet she chose to repeat senior year to try the entrance exam again.
In his previous life, Fu Chuan had obsessed over pleasing his seven sisters. This time, he hadn’t even noticed Shen Shutang sharing the same 765 bus…
Of course. Previously, Fu Chuan waited for Zichen to go to school together, but Zichen was chauffeured, while Fu Chuan took the bus, supposedly as “training” for him.
Back then, he had naively believed it.
Now… bias is bias, no matter how elegantly it’s dressed.
These are the family members connected by blood.
Fu Chuan didn’t bother looking at Shen Shutang. A girl like her had nothing to do with him. He thought only of painting. His skills had matured this life, and his goal was the best art academy in G City—a missed opportunity last life, now destined to be fulfilled.
Fu Chuan didn’t notice… Shen Shutang, stealing glances from the corner of her eye, quietly studied his profile. Her eyes held an unusual glimmer.
At G City No.1 High, Fu Chuan arrived in class and sat by the window.
Most students came from wealthy families, raised in elite education, with their own small circles.
This was even more pronounced in the expensive special classes.
Seniors had learned to operate strictly on self-interest—what benefits them, what doesn’t, very clearly.
Fu Chuan’s sisters had kept his identity hidden—he was the true young master—to avoid unnecessary jealousy or pressure on Fu Zichen. Their excuse? Zichen’s terminal illness couldn’t handle the shock.
Fu Chuan believed them. He was a “special talents” student with exceptional painting skills, inserted forcibly into the class—no power, no influence, easily overlooked.
Sometimes, being ordinary was better. More laughter, less scheming.
Growing up in this aristocratic family, deprived of genuine emotion, Fu Chuan realized he could never paint anything truly heartfelt—only soulless copies.
After culture classes, it was time for specialty courses.
Fu Chuan picked up his tools, waiting for the teacher to assign the lesson.
A familiar figure walked in.
“Mr. Wang is unwell lately, so I’ll be substituting for you all…”
It was the fifth Fu sibling—Fu Qingqing.
Dressed professionally, wearing glasses, her breathtaking beauty and sharp cold eyes were unmistakable.