She calmly accepted the blessings. Song Fu swapped her glass for a cup of red wine from the waiter’s tray and clinked it against the one in Yan Huai Xu’s hand, producing a crisp sound. Her red lips curved lightly. “Please take good care of me too, fiancé.” She deliberately drew out the ending, turning the last three words into a little hook threaded with strands of ambiguity.
Unfortunately, she faced someone utterly oblivious to romance. His expression showed no change whatsoever.
Just as Song Fu wondered if she would get a response before her lips touched the rim of her glass, a low magnetic voice sounded—
“Remember.” Yan Huai Xu’s phoenix eyes were dark and bottomless like an ancient well without a ripple. “This is your own choice.” He likewise downed the wine in his glass in one go.
Song Fu’s lips stiffened. She nearly failed to maintain her triumphant smile. In her mind, she asked the system, ‘What did the male lead mean by that?’
‘Does it mean that even if things feel bad later, I’ll have to swallow the bitter pill and take it?’ She thought about the later plotline and found nothing where the male lead went overboard. After all, she was his benefactor’s granddaughter.
To say something a bit embarrassing, when Song Fu had asked the male lead to be her gift earlier, her heart had nearly jumped into her throat. She feared this unapproachable man would turn hostile without mercy, so she hadn’t dared make any extra little moves like linking arms. Fortunately, everything went smoothly.
She responded a beat late. “Of course I won’t regret it.”
[Perhaps?] The plotline didn’t detail it that much; it was from the female lead’s perspective, so the system could only provide vague, speculative information.
Then someone else came to toast Song Fu. She didn’t stint on smiles for blessings about her relationship with the male lead or comments like how they were made for each other.
“Fu Fu has turned into a big girl in the blink of an eye.”
Song Fu failed to immediately recall the man’s title. Only after his reminder did she remember. “Uncle An.”
He had no intention of just going through the motions and leaving. He properly put on the airs of an elder. “A girl changes so much after growing up—that saying really holds true. After being away for a few years, you seem much more steady, kid.”
It was utter nonsense, spoken with eyes shut. Which steady person would demand someone become her fiancé as a gift?
Song Fu had no interest in playing along. She gave a careless “oh” that blocked all his remaining words.
Song Fu knew she shouldn’t have changed much compared to before going abroad. After all, she hadn’t transmigrated at this birthday banquet; their first meeting was even earlier.
Back then, the male lead had still been a boy with traces of youthfulness. He wasn’t as tall as now, nor as broad-shouldered. The only thing unchanged was the heavy dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep.
…
A stormy night with flashing lightning and rumbling thunder. Rain pattered against the floor-to-ceiling windows, forming winding trails of water.
With a “boom” of thunder, Song Fu entered the new small world. The timeline was still the female side character’s first meeting with the male lead.
The system was one that kept its word. In the previous world, it had said it would pick a female side character from a good family background, and it truly delivered one spoiled like a treasure, even more so than the first world. To be precise, the female side character was a third-generation rich kid. Why not second-generation? Because her parents were living off the family fortune too.
Old Master Song granted his only granddaughter’s every wish, to the point of fearing she’d shatter if held in his palm. He even completely renovated the old residence for her pleasure, turning it into a massive princess room. By rights, it should have drawn teasing and mockery, but no one dared comment.
The large swaths of warm colors and soft furnishings made the cold, discordant tones stand out even more. Song Fu easily spotted the boy at the door, along with the system’s prompt—
[Male lead, Yan Huai Xu. Current status: Malnourished]
At high school age, the boy wore his school uniform. He was very tall but also very thin, drenched from head to toe. His black hair dripped water. His face was paper-white, like a vengeful water ghost crawling out from under a bridge or a stray dog that had struggled ashore after falling in. He exuded chill.
But there was no timidity. When he noticed Song Fu’s lingering gaze, he met it directly.
Song Fu spoke first. “Who?”
The auntie handing him a towel answered for the boy. “He’s the young master from the Yan Family, here to see Old Master.”
“Then wait.”
Song Fu showed no sympathy, just simple indifference. She withdrew her gaze, turned, and went upstairs to continue her own business.
For the female side character, visitors like this were common. In her memories, she never gave them a good face.
Old Master Song returned home from the charity auction past ten at night. During this time, Song Fu went downstairs twice and saw the male lead sitting there quietly each time, like a handsome sculpture.
He truly was handsome, even disheveled and unhealthy. That face perfectly fit the male lead standard. Perhaps thanks to the auntie’s hot tea, his complexion wasn’t as deathly pale as at first. His lips had a hint of red. In a blink, his long lashes lowered, his dark eyes like an ink painting.
“Didn’t you bring an umbrella, kid?” Old Master Song asked with great concern, then turned to the auntie. “Why not give him a change of clothes? What if the child catches a cold?”
The auntie explained that Yan Huai Xu had refused to change.
“Grandpa Song.” The boy’s voice was hoarse, like it had been sanded. “I’d like to ask you for a favor?”
“What favor?” Old Master Song knew to clarify terms upfront.
The Song and Yan families had always been on good terms, but after the older generation of the Yan Family passed, the relationship naturally grew distant. Old Master Song didn’t get an immediate answer from Yan Huai Xu. He pondered, then said, “Talk in the study.” He noticed Song Fu sipping hot cocoa. “Fu Fu, go to bed early. That’s good for your health.”
Song Fu verbally agreed but showed no intention of obeying. Old Master Song didn’t press.
She only had the basic memories and hadn’t received the plotline yet.
[Don’t worry, host! This time, the male lead can’t leave the female lead at all, so he absolutely won’t fall for you!]
Song Fu: “…”
She could hear the deep resentment.
[Let me transmit the plot—] Upon learning more, it turned out to be a physical dependence. The reason was none other than the classic healing novel trope: the male lead suffered from intractable insomnia, curable only by the female lead’s presence for peaceful sleep.
Of course, the male lead’s insomnia didn’t come from nowhere. It stemmed from a tragic, heavy past.
Yan Huai Xu.
He took his mother’s surname. His father was a live-in son-in-law.
In his childhood, he had what others saw as a near-perfect happy family. His father was gentle and refined, a writer from the mountains who wielded the pen and had published a few seemingly profound books. His mother was bright and gentle, never worrying about livelihood from birth, a rising star painter chasing art.
His parents’ meeting was highly romantic.
At an anonymous art exhibit, the woman’s paintings went unnoticed—except by the man, who showed appreciation and even spoke of the warmth he sensed in them. They chatted briefly. The woman thought she’d met her soulmate and fell in love. They quickly married and had a son.
Until a sudden fire claimed the woman’s life.
Post-marriage, the woman’s mental state deteriorated. She often relied on alcohol and drugs to sleep. Reportedly, a cigarette in her hand that hadn’t fully extinguished ignited the bedding.
The male lead, returning from visiting his maternal grandmother, saw only wreckage.
They said the smoke alarm’s film in the new house hadn’t been removed in time. They said the villa district was too sparse for immediate notice. They said the man’s phone had died, preventing contact, so he broke in… As if a series of coincidences took her life.
With his only daughter’s death, the white-haired sent off the black-haired. The male lead’s maternal grandmother soon passed too.
Left were Yan Huai Xu and his father, whose face had changed.
He spoke fondly of her in every sentence, but the day after the grandmother’s death, he eagerly brought a woman home, calling her the future mom, and pointed at the child behind, calling him the little brother.
Illegitimate little brother.
Unlike Yan Huai Xu, who resembled his mother, this brother’s similarity to the man was obvious at a glance.
“I should’ve killed the little one too; he’s not on my side at all.” “That bitch guarded against me. So much money, but she wouldn’t let me touch it.” “That old bag of bones left all the inheritance to a kid. Can he manage it? Why not give it to me?” “Not even sharing my surname, doesn’t look like my seed. Still, our Le Le is good.”
…“So what if they won’t give me money? I got the insurance payout. Once the little one comes of age and the money’s in hand, it’s mine anyway—his old man’s.”
Behind the door, Yan Huai Xu felt dizzy and nauseous.
His accidental noise was caught. He faced a savage visage.
“Just a kid; who’d believe it? No evidence anyway.” The man was smug. “Say it’s disciplining the child. If the kid talks back out of spite, it’s just nonsense.”
The last mask torn away, Yan Huai Xu’s treatment plummeted. He ate poorly, slept worse. Knowing his mother died in her sleep made calm impossible; sleep evaded him.
Now, as a high schooler, the male lead likely had evidence to send his father to prison, hence this visit.
Song Fu sighed inwardly. Under such premises, the male lead’s inability to trust anyone made sense. Only a sufficiently simple and innocent female lead could breach his defenses.
Though the female side character adored the male lead, she got no response…
Wait.
After receiving the plotline, Song Fu realized a crucial issue:
She should have acted warmer when the male lead arrived!
She hadn’t expected the female side character to fall in love with him at first sight.
Question: How, when his face was barely visible?
Answer: The female side character had played a romance game where her favorite capturable NPC matched the male lead’s entrance—both pitiful little things. Even their surnames coincided. Combining these, she deemed it fate and had to love him.
So, could she act enthusiastic now?
Song Fu questioned her life choices.
“Mr. Chen, Young Master Yan’s father, is here. He says they quarreled but he’s worried.”
Song Fu set down her long-cold coffee and snapped back. She nodded lightly. “Then let him—no, make him stand in the rain a bit longer before coming in. It’s late night; disturbing people’s peace isn’t right.” That damn phoenix man.
Under the downpour, an umbrella was useless. Ten-odd minutes later, after the study talk ended, Mr. Chen entered looking like a drowned rat. No one offered him a towel, so he stood at the door yelling, “Old Master Song, sorry to disturb you. I didn’t expect Huai Xu to have such a temper—just two words and he ran off.”
Yan Huai Xu said nothing.
Old Master Song smiled without mirth. “Kids need spoiling. I never even raise my voice to Fu Fu.”
“It’s so late with the heavy rain and inconvenient travel. Let Huai Xu stay here, maybe for a while. I really like the child.” Old Master Song patted Yan Huai Xu’s shoulder amiably. But when Mr. Chen objected, his face darkened instantly. “You won’t even give me this face?”
“No, but it’d trouble you too much…”
“No trouble at all.” Song Fu cut in, stating her position. “I like him. I like him a lot. He can live in our house forever.”
She glanced at Yan Huai Xu’s expression. Their gazes met, but she read no emotion.
“It’s late. You should go.” Old Master Song issued the eviction with clear impatience.
Mr. Chen’s face twisted like he’d swallowed a fly. He stepped forward, trying to grab Yan Huai Xu.
Song Fu yawned and lifted her chin. “Hey, don’t dirty my carpet. I like it a lot.”
The man was driven off. The matter concluded. Song Fu was urged to rest. Yan Huai Xu was led to a guest room by the auntie. No chance for talk.
Just as Old Master Song had said, Yan Huai Xu stayed briefly at the Song Family’s old residence. His room was arranged on the first floor, so logically, they should have run into each other whenever one of them went out. But they did not.
They only saw each other at dinner.
It was worth mentioning that Old Master Song had specially arranged for Yan Huai Xu to get a physical checkup and prepared a rich nutritional menu to help him recuperate. After all, he was the grandson of his deceased friend and had gone through those events. Old Master Song felt heartbroken just thinking about it. “You should have come to find us sooner.”
Yan Huai Xu lowered his eyelashes, admitted his fault, and said it was troublesome.
Song Fu ate her shrimp dumplings. She heard the System say that the male lead had come this time prepared with sufficient bargaining chips—a pure exchange of interests, with no intention of investing emotions. That made sense. In the male lead’s cognition, all kindness could be faked, but only interests remained constant.
“You won’t go to school for now. There will be a family tutor. You can study at home just like our Fu Fu.” Old Master Song merely sighed and said the procedures would still take some time. He then looked at Song Fu. “Don’t let any stinky brat fool you. Bring anyone back first for your grandpa to size up.”
Song Fu set down her spoon and pointed her finger at Yan Huai Xu beside her. With an inexplicable tone, she opened her mouth. “Didn’t I say I like him?”
Old Master Song was shocked into coughing. He recalled, “Wasn’t that just to keep him here?”
Song Fu nodded seriously. “Yeah, I like him, so I kept him here.”
Silence lingered for a long time.
Old Master Song knew the day would come when his little cabbage would be carried off by a pig, but he had not expected it so soon. After confirming again that Song Fu was not joking, his gaze fell on Yan Huai Xu, who had not made a sound. “She’s still young and immature. No matter what, we have to wait until she’s grown up.”
Yan Huai Xu said flatly, “I know.”
Song Fu denied it. “No, I’m serious!”
Old Master Song brought out the rule of not speaking while eating or sleeping and shut his mouth, pretending he had not heard.
And Yan Huai Xu was always very quiet.
So quiet that Song Fu only noticed him after seeing him, and then she would get a fright.
…
In the afternoon, while watching a movie and reaching an emotional part, tears flowed down uncontrollably. As she wiped them with a tissue, she heard a voice:
“Grandpa Song is calling you.”
Startled into a shiver, Song Fu turned her head, dazed. “Are you some kind of ghost? You walk without making a sound.”
Yan Huai Xu said expressionlessly, “Sorry.” It was an apology, but his tone was like saying “Alright, enough” – just a way to avoid conflict.
He stared at her again. “You’re crying?”
In a tone that implied what was there to cry about.
“…Congratulations, your eyes still work.” Stared at by him, Song Fu awkwardly wiped the tears from her face. “I’m not made of wood. Crying is normal, okay?”
Yan Huai Xu said, “You can continue crying.”
What an inexplicable statement. Song Fu blinked. “I don’t want to now.”
Besides the physical checkups, they really should pay attention to the male lead’s mental state too, right?
There was nothing more to argue about, so Song Fu left as he wished to go play chess with Old Master Song.