Song Fu wanted to know even more details and pressed for the criteria by which the male lead’s issues were judged, but the System seemed bound by some regulation restriction and hemmed and hawed its way through, only saying: [If the male lead doesn’t follow the plot line this time, that insomnia problem will really make him suffer.]
Song Fu propped herself up on her left arm as she engaged in a simple and unadorned activity—copying homework.
More precisely, she was copying Yan Huai Xu’s homework. She could have written it herself, but there was no need. Yan Huai Xu’s homework was so neat that anyone who saw it would have to praise it: the headings and subheadings were used properly, the handwriting was beautiful, and it was clear at a glance that effort had been put into practicing it.
Song Fu glanced at the person beside her and brought up a topic. “Do you know how to write with a brush?”
Yan Huai Xu answered, “I do.”
Song Fu asked, “Who did you learn from?” The female supporting character’s calligraphy had been taught personally by Old Master Song, but from her understanding, some families placed special emphasis on lineage and would hire masters with a certain reputation specifically for calligraphy—it made for a good story later. “It’s pretty nice-looking.” It was square and standard enough, yet one could discern a sharpness from the brush strokes.
Yan Huai Xu didn’t pause his pen and answered without lifting his head. “My dad.”
Real or fake? Song Fu fell silent for two seconds before changing the subject. “Upon closer inspection, it’s actually not that good-looking.” She adopted a nitpicking attitude. “It has a bit of a petty villain vibe…” She couldn’t say that, after all, the handwriting she was looking at now was written by Yan Huai Xu himself. “Anyway, it’s not as good as my grandpa’s. How about I ask him to teach you?”
The homework seemed to be finished. Yan Huai Xu closed his notebook and turned his head to look at her. “Were you wanting to ask how he ended up teaching me?”
Song Fu let out a dry laugh. She really had been surprised that the villainous dad knew calligraphy at all.
“He always has times when he has to pretend to be a loving father.”
A trace of sarcasm flickered in Yan Huai Xu’s eyes. “My handwriting doesn’t resemble his.”
“I knew it.” Song Fu pulled out the homework she had been copying again. “It really is good-looking.”
She figured that the Chen guy teaching Yan Huai Xu calligraphy was just for show in front of others. Behind closed doors, he probably dumped a pile of copybooks on him to practice alone—and if the male lead didn’t show progress in front of others, he might even get beaten… It was a total moral collapse!
“Your dad called my grandpa a couple days ago. No idea where he got the contact info.”
At the time, Song Fu had wanted to feed the fish but couldn’t find any bait, so she settled for taking some feed from Old Master Song’s birds—and that’s when she ran into the old man, who was full of anger.
Song Fu’s first reaction was that her previous feed-stealing had been discovered, but Old Master Song had no intention of hiding it and directly told her who had called. Earnestly, he said, “You tell me yourself how complicated their family situation is.”
Song Fu didn’t take it seriously. “Once his dad goes to jail, won’t he just be all alone? What’s complicated about that?”
Of course, she couldn’t say that to Yan Huai Xu. Song Fu skipped right over it. “The process is almost done, so he’s definitely received the court summons by now. When the time comes, he’ll probably come at you with some sugar-coated bribes—just don’t go soft.”
“I won’t.” Yan Huai Xu’s tone was firm.
Song Fu figured as much; the male lead’s character setting didn’t include being softhearted.
She had only thought about how satisfying it would be once the villain was brought to justice, but she hadn’t considered that once the problem was solved, Yan Huai Xu’s reason for continuing to stay with the Song Family would vanish too.
Under the premise of deliberately pushing to speed up the process, the judgment for that Chen guy came down faster and heavier than expected. Just the crime of duty embezzlement alone was enough to make him suffer.
He could have gotten leniency by returning all the illicit gains, but that phoenix man had a muddled head, lost in his pipe dream of wresting the money to himself once Yan Huai Xu turned eighteen. He loved saving face too, always spending whatever he had on hand. At the critical moment, he couldn’t even return one-fifth of the embezzled funds.
Word was that the phoenix man had been counting on his current wife to help, but either communication failed or she had long wanted to cut ties. When she was called in for tea and a talk, the long-closed case of the fire “accident” got dragged back in.
The investigation reopened, multiple crimes compounded.
“Death penalty?” Song Fu was only surprised for an instant before quickly accepting it. “Reasonable.”
A life for a life—even dying quickly was a win for that bastard.
Old Master Song looked serious as he personally poured a cup of tea for Yan Huai Xu. “Are you going to watch the execution?”
Yan Huai Xu remained calm from start to finish, his thick, dark lashes lowered. “Nothing worth seeing.”
Song Fu nodded vigorously in agreement, frowning. “Yeah, what’s there to see? Grandpa, who would let a minor watch an execution? Shouldn’t you be more concerned about psychological health?”
Old Master Song got a scolding from his granddaughter and quickly apologized. Actually, death sentences were non-public anyway, so Yan Huai Xu couldn’t go even if he wanted to. He just wanted to gauge how much resentment this unassuming young man harbored. “I’ll book a psychologist for tomorrow to chat.”
Song Fu: “…” Don’t torture the psychologist, okay?
Old Master Song took a leisurely sip of tea and changed the heavy topic. “Your parents are coming back tomorrow.”
Song Fu didn’t pay much attention and responded casually, “Good.”
After a quiet moment, Yan Huai Xu suddenly spoke up. “I’ve found a place near the school.”
Song Fu took a moment to react, realizing this meant he was moving out. She dragged out an unwilling “Ahhh.”
Old Master Song’s first reaction was also to dissuade him. Keeping an extra child around—especially the child of a deceased friend—was no burden on the Song Family at all. Plus, in old age, he just liked having the house lively. “Is somewhere uncomfortable, or did someone make you unhappy…” Halfway through, he couldn’t help glancing at his own granddaughter.
Song Fu widened her peach-blossom eyes in disbelief and pointed at herself. “Me? What does it have to do with me?”
This was blatant slander!
“It’s not because of Song Fu.”
Yan Huai Xu spoke up to clarify. “I just need to go back to school for classes—better to live close by.”
Song Fu sighed mournfully. “What’s so good about going to school?”
Old Master Song: “You think everyone is as undisciplined as you?”
Yan Huai Xu was decisive, so Old Master Song didn’t press further. He only said that if there was anything he needed help with, don’t hesitate—and when free, come by the Song Family to keep this old man company.
Song Fu raised her hand unwilling to be outdone. “And me.”
She lifted her chin smugly. “If you don’t come find me, I’ll go looking for you myself.”
Before leaving, Yan Huai Xu also met Song Fu’s parents.
The couple’s attitudes toward him could be described as polar opposites. One was so enthusiastic she hugged him right away, saying this kid was really handsome and that her daughter’s taste was spot-on. The other stood by with a cold face, arms crossed, as if determined to pick faults, sneering twice. “Our Fu Fu is still little—what does she know about liking someone? It’s just a three-minute crush.”
The woman huffed. “Weren’t you the one chasing me in high school? Forgotten already?”
The man immediately softened. “No, no, that was a special case—special analysis required.”
Song Fu got hugged too, even more dramatically in a double pincer attack, her face stamped with a red lipstick print.
“Baby, I brought you lots of gifts.”
All grown up, Song Fu still blushed at being called baby and emphasized, “It’s Fu Fu.”
“Mm, Fu Fu is our baby~” Mother Song smiled brightly; nearing forty, she looked more vibrant than many young people. “Come on in—don’t keep them waiting and get too tired.”
Song Fu lagged half a step behind to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with Yan Huai Xu, persistently asking, “If you go to school now, the progress won’t match. Why not finish this semester’s studies at home with me? We can talk about school next term.”
“No issue.”
As for why there was no issue, Yan Huai Xu didn’t say. Song Fu unhappily kicked a pebble away.
Piles of gifts sat by the sofa. Song Fu unwrapped a few and lost interest. “Mom, where’s the couple watch I wanted?”
Mother Song pulled two palm-sized boxes from behind her like a magician. “Right here.”
Father Song threw cold water. “Not a couple’s set—just looks like a pair.” Glared at huffily by his daughter, he quickly made excuses. “He’s not officially with you yet—would he wear a couple watch? This way works fine too, right?”
Father Song shoved the men’s watch into Yan Huai Xu’s hand and clapped his shoulder like old pals. “No need to be polite—try it on, see if it fits. Your aunt didn’t know your size, so no suit, but she got you cufflinks, tie clips, and such.”
“Thanks.” Yan Huai Xu didn’t refuse unnecessarily and put on the watch under their urging.
Song Fu put on the other one too and curved her lips. “It really looks like a couple watch.”
Yan Huai Xu seemed satisfied too—no change in expression, but Song Fu saw he didn’t take it off.
…
[Host, time to crank up the drama—go for it!]
Saturday came, the day Yan Huai Xu was officially leaving. He said he needed to tidy up the new place a bit. They’d just finished lunch, so he should be packing in his room now.
Under the System’s pep talk, Song Fu chose to push the door open without knocking. “Do you really have to go…?” Seeing the male lead shirtless, hoodie half-off, Song Fu really wanted to back out, knock, and try again. Had to admit, his build was decent—muscles evenly proportioned, not scrawny.
After appraising him, Song Fu met Yan Huai Xu’s eyes and steeled herself to continue the act. “Be honest—is it because you find me annoying?”
“No.” Yan Huai Xu changed into a shirt, turned sideways, and slowly buttoned it up, then suggested, “Remember to knock next time.”
He was too calm, making it hard for Song Fu to ramp up her emotions. She stomped over to stand beside Yan Huai Xu, grabbed his wrist hard, and said word by word, “You will be mine.”
She didn’t ask if he liked her—just stated it affirmatively.
“Don’t think you can just leave and cut ties with me.”
Song Fu discovered once more how black Yan Huai Xu’s eyes really were, especially when quietly fixed on someone—like hard, cold obsidian.
Her grip on his hand unconsciously tightened.
Yan Huai Xu said, “I never thought that.”
Song Fu released him, still suspicious. “Really?”
Yan Huai Xu: “Mm.”
So Yan Huai Xu continued packing, while Song Fu sat on the nearby bed watching.
She asked the System: ‘Don’t insomniacs get irritable easily? How is his temper so good?’ To show how urgent she was, she’d grabbed Yan Huai Xu with all her strength, but he hadn’t even tried to shake her off. It made her look hysterical—of course, that impression was accurate.
The System replied casually: [Probably just too repressed in life.]
Song Fu: ‘…’
Fine, her conscience ached again.
But for the male lead, there was still good news ahead—
“Go abroad?!!”
Old Master Song was the first to voice displeasure, thumping his cane on the floor. “What are you thinking, letting Fu Fu go abroad? She’s so young—how’s she supposed to live alone out there?”
Father Song and Mother Song exchanged a glance, seeing the same helplessness on each other’s faces. “Fu Fu’s almost an adult—only you still think she’s little. Letting her train abroad to figure out what kind of life she really wants isn’t bad, right?”
Old Master Song saw through their little scheme at once. “You found her a job in Italy, didn’t you?”
“You really know everything,” Mother Song said with an embarrassed smile. She had studied fashion design and truly loved the industry. She planned to develop her career there for a while, but she couldn’t bear to leave her daughter.
Father Song spoke up for his wife. “If we let her stay in the country, always trailing behind that boy like a tail, what would that look like? Take her abroad to live for a while; maybe she’ll cool off and forget about him.” Seeing Old Master Song seemed swayed, he immediately pressed the advantage. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring Fu Fu back frequently. If Fu Fu isn’t happy staying in Italy, I’ll send her right back without a word.”
In the end, Old Master Song couldn’t hold out and nodded.
Song Fu’s trip abroad was thus settled.
She didn’t complain unhappily about it; after all, this was one episode in the supporting female character’s life, treated as part of a test.
Was it mercy toward the male lead? It left him some breathing room.
On the day Song Fu packed her luggage, Yan Huai Xu came to visit.
This time, their positions had swapped. Song Fu was the one packing things, while Yan Huai Xu sat there.
Song Fu stuffed the cotton doll from the bed into her suitcase. Then she picked up the custom BJD doll from the desk and forced a smile at Yan Huai Xu. “Look, doesn’t it look just like…?”
Yan Huai Xu asked, “What?”
Song Fu set the not-exactly-lightweight doll back in its place. “It looks just like you, doesn’t it?”
She said, “He also has the surname Yan.”