Chapter 72: Waiting for Yu Fan
Yu Kaiming was truly scared.
People fear death more as they age. When he was young he would have dragged the whole world down with him. Now that he was old, all he had left was that filthy mouth.
But Yu Fan was young. He had no interest in going down with the whole world. He would only come for him. They were not close, but Yu Kaiming had watched him grow up and knew the kid always did what he said.
It was the calmest conversation they had ever had. Even when he was tiny and getting hit, Yu Fan used to curse and fight back. Today he did not lift a hand and even his voice barely rose or fell.
Yu Kaiming sat on the sofa, jittery, watching Yu Fan flip through his phone. His eyes darted around, found nothing he could use as a weapon, and his panic got worse.
Yu Fan erased every photo involving Chen Jing Shen, then opened the texts Yu Kaiming had sent Ji Lianyi.
When he finished, he stared at nothing for a long time and told himself over and over: no, don’t, not worth it.
He sat on the sofa all night. Yu Kaiming sat beside him, strung as tight as a bowstring. Yu Fan had not said a word, yet Yu Kaiming felt like he had spent the entire night on a cliff edge, one kick from going over. Every time the boy moved, he jolted and scooted farther away.
Luckily, Yu Fan did not spare him a glance.
Dawn crept in. Yu Fan stood and called Ji Lianyi. She took a long time to answer, voice drained. “I told you not to call me—”
“It’s me,” Yu Fan said. “I’m taking him to turn himself in.”
Ji froze for several seconds, then broke. “No. You can’t. You cannot!” A crash of glass split the line, heavy and harsh. Holding her voice down by sheer force, every syllable shaking, she said, “Do you want everyone to know you two are—” The rest stuck in her throat. She yanked open a drawer, shook out pills, swallowed two.
“They will keep it confidential,” he said.
“No. No. No one else can know, do you hear me? Do you?” Ji pressed. “How much do you want?”
He had heard the pillbox. Yu Fan clenched his fist, waited a long moment, then said, “Give me a bank account.”
The only relief in this mess was that Yu Kaiming had not burned through much of the money. He had started with a few thousand, ten thousand. Only after he clocked the price tag on Ji’s car did he roar for eight hundred thousand. The money had arrived two days ago. The big game was only last night. He had not yet taken it to gamble.
After Yu Fan sent the money back, Ji called again, still spooked, asking what he meant.
“The thirty thousand he took before, I’ll send it back to your card in installments,” Yu Fan said. “I deleted the photos. It is over.”
Ji went quiet for a beat, as if only just realizing the son might not be the one behind all this. “Will your father still—”
“I’ll take him away.”
Yu Fan pulled items from a black bag one by one and dropped them into a suitcase. “This won’t spread. Don’t transfer Chen Jing Shen.”
Silence on the other end. Just as Yu Fan thought she had hung up, she said, “Do it quickly. If you need help with travel money or paperwork, call me. And… before you go, don’t let Jingshen know.”
She could feel her son slipping out of her grasp. She could not take any more variables.
With the money gone, Yu Kaiming felt like he had woken from a rich man’s dream. He fumed but said nothing. Given how bold he had been, now he almost felt lucky to be alive.
Yu Fan washed his face and came out. As he was turning to his room, Yu Kaiming blurted, “How long are you going to keep my phone? That’s illegal seizure of property.”
“Oh. Call the police and have me arrested.”
“…”
“My patience has a limit, Yu Kaiming. If you go looking for the wrong people again, both of us can forget about living,” Yu Fan said coolly. “Pack. I’ll give it back when we leave.”
By the third hour without a reply, Chen Jing Shen headed out to find him. He was stopped at the door.
“I’m not well,” Ji Lianyi said. “I’ve booked Dr. Xu. We have to go now. It’s the weekend tomorrow and the day after. Come with me.”
Dr. Xu was Ji’s therapist, the one who had helped her claw out of the wreckage of her marriage. He had since moved to the next city.
“You go first. I have someone to meet. I’ll take the high-speed rail after,” Chen said.
He stepped out. His sleeve was caught.
“Come with me first, then see them,” Ji said, pale, honest for once. “Jing Shen, I am in a lot of pain.”
He stayed silent in the entryway. One foot crossed the threshold and “I’ll come as soon as I can” was on his lips when his phone buzzed.
[-: Fell asleep. Why so many messages, trying to summon my soul?]
The tension that had been coiled in Chen without him noticing loosened. He texted back, told him he would be out of town for two days, then looked up at his mother. “Let’s go.”
The trip came out of nowhere. They spent nearly the whole night on the highway. Every time he took out his phone, Ji would glance over sharply. “Can you put that away? It’s too bright. I can’t sleep.”
By the time they arrived it was barely light. At the hotel he washed his face. In the next room he heard Ji’s muffled voice. The walls were good, he only caught one word: “No.”
He froze, face still wet, and rang her bell. No answer. He waited two minutes, turned to get the front desk to bring a spare, when the lock clicked and the door opened.
Ji came out bloodless. Somehow she looked worse than before.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Heard something,” he said, eyes dropping to the phone in her hand. “On a call?”
“No,” she denied at once, then lowered her voice. “A video meeting. I’ve been too busy to go into the office. Something cropped up.”
A video meeting at six in the morning.
Chen said nothing, just looked down and watched her. The panic climbing her chest returned. She laid a hand on his back. “Come on. The driver is waiting.”
The clinic had been booked for Ji alone. Chen sat on a bench outside the consulting room, hands open on his thighs, lost in tired thought.
The last time she had fallen ill it was because she had caught her husband cheating. She was a perfectionist who needed control to feel safe. She could not accept the failure of her marriage or the man she had chosen. For a long time after, the degree to which she controlled Chen Jing Shen was frightening.
She needed to keep him in sight at all times. Anyone he met, anything that happened, had to happen under her eyelids.
Only after long therapy and a return to work had things eased.
Why had it all flared again?
He stared at nothing and found no answer.
It was eight. The one he wanted was probably still asleep. With time to kill, he opened the only app he used for fun.
Snake. One online friend. Nickname: “-”.
He paused, exited, sent a message.
[s: ?]
Ten minutes later:
[-: Don’t bug me. I’m breaking the record.]
[s: I’ll break it for you when I get back.]
[-: … Get lost.]
[-: I’m gaming. Don’t message and mess me up.]
He finally smiled and switched to spectate.
They got back to Nancheng Monday afternoon. Two full days of treatment and Ji did not look much better.
She had the driver take them straight to school. Before Chen got out, she said she had to go to the company to handle something that had been dragging on. She might not make it to school. Go home on time.
It was class time. Only a few classes were out on the track.
Chen hitched his bag up and headed for the teaching block. Then a familiar figure flickered at the edge of his sight. He stopped and frowned.
Yu Fan leaned on the library rooftop railing, looking down. The library was not tall, but the spot was good. You could see most of the campus.
He had chosen class time on purpose and gone straight up to the roof. He figured the senior teaching block was far enough that no one would see him. He was here to wait for Zhuang Fangqin to get out of class. Standing there though, he could not help looking toward the sixth floor.
Back today, right? In class? Doing problems? Or taking a quiz?
A sharp whistle stabbed up from below. Yu Fan thought he had been spotted and dropped into a crouch.
When nothing else happened, he peeked. It was just the PE teacher calling truants back from the cafeteria.
That PE teacher also taught his class. That whistle was often for him.
Yu Fan exhaled and slid down with his back against the wall. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette. The rooftop door creaked open and he froze.
He thought it was campus security and lifted his head lazily.
He saw the one whose name he did not dare even think.
His knees were still bent, not fully seated. He stared, dumbstruck, as the other boy crossed the space, crouched, and caught his chin, forcing it up.
Chen Jing Shen’s fingers brushed the edge of the bandages on his neck. Yu Fan snapped back and reached up to block him.
Chen did not tear them off. Feeling how cold Yu Fan’s fingertips were, he asked, “How did you get hurt?”
“Cat scratch,” Yu Fan said. He only realized then how wrecked his voice sounded. Probably because he had barely spoken for two days.
“Why are you here? Cutting class?” Chen asked.
“Just got my rabies shots.”
A guy who would limp home from a fight instead of going to the hospital, going in because of a scratch from a cat? Right.
Yu Fan usually looked away when he lied. This time his eyes stayed on Chen’s face.
After a few seconds of silence, Chen pressed the loosened edge of a bandage back down. He pushed Yu Fan’s hair off his forehead, looked him over.
“Did you get in a fight again?” he asked softly.
“…”
The dam nearly broke. Yu Fan bit down, the muscles along his jaw bulging. He finally told one truth. “No. We argued.”
Chen hummed. He rubbed Yu Fan’s hair. “Hold on. Two more semesters.”
“…”
His throat burned dry. Thank god the swelling in his eyes had gone down over the past two days. “When did you get back? Why aren’t you in class?”
“Just got here.” Confirming there were no other injuries, Chen let out a tired breath. “I took my mom to the clinic the last two days.”
“Is it bad?”
“Better on the way back. She has to go regularly.”
Yu Fan swallowed and finally said, “Oh.”
Chen studied him. Yu Fan always spoke little, but rarely like this, pale and drained.
He touched his forehead, then pinched the top of his ear.
“What are you doing?” Yu Fan caught his wrist.
“Seeing if you have a fever.”
“…”
On any other day, Yu Fan would have tossed his hand aside. Not today. He set Chen’s wrist back on his head.
Chen blinked and eased his fingers into his hair. His mood lifted.
He smelled a faint trace of smoke. “You smoked?”
“Couldn’t help it.” Yu Fan looked at him. “I don’t smoke when I’m with you.”
“Don’t smoke when I’m not with you either.”
Tough ask, Yu Fan thought.
The bell rang. Yu Fan came back to himself. “Next is physics. Go.”
“Got my timetable memorized?” Chen asked.
“As if. I only remember this period.”
“What about you?”
“Going to Fangqin’s office. Went to the net café Friday afternoon and she caught me.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No.” Yu Fan wet his lips. “Next is PE. She’ll just make me stand there if I go now. I’ll sit a bit, then go.”
“I’ll wait,” Chen said.
“Don’t.” Yu Fan brushed his hand away. “It’s not on your way.”
After a pause, Chen gave in. “Then go soon.”
Yu Fan nodded. A warm hand cupped his cheek one last time, checking for fever.
Satisfied, Chen said, “I’m not rushing home today. I’ll come to your room later.”
A giant speaker sat beside the roof entrance. The bell blared, rattling the ears.
Yu Fan blinked and, inside that thunder, said very softly, “Chen Jing Shen.”
“Mm?”
Let’s run away.
“… Kiss me.”
The music went ten seconds. For ten quiet seconds, Chen kissed him, palms warm on his face. The mint on Chen’s skin hit him. It had only been two days, yet it felt like an ocean.
Yu Fan’s hands pressed into the concrete at his sides, nails biting his palms. His head had been a chaotic snarl for two days. For one moment, it went blank.
He was kissed, then released, and heard Chen’s low voice. “Wait for me after school.”
Class 1 always ended later than the others. During the last period, Chen kept glancing outside.
No one by the railing. No one by the wall. No one at the door.
He texted the pinned chat. [Held over. Start your homework.]
No reply.
A pulse throbbed at his temple. Something felt wrong. He could not focus. The overrun stretched to twenty minutes. On his third glance at his phone he realized what he had missed. He grabbed his bag and stood. Under a roomful of eyes and the teacher’s question, he walked out.
It clicked only then. Back on the roof, Yu Fan’s reaction had been off. Shocked. Blank. Like seeing him was the last thing he expected.
Many stayed for noon self-study. In the afternoon, almost no one. Everyone rushed to eat, shower, and get back for evening prep.
So when Chen reached Class 7, it was empty. The quiet felt colder than usual.
He went to the back row and looked down at the desk.
Usually it held the last period’s textbook, a half-finished paper, and a pen without its cap. The cubby was always a tornado of sheets and workbooks. Every class or hand-in required a dig.
Right now it was bare.
He stood there without moving for a long time. Then he pulled out the chair and sat. He took a random test from his bag and began scrawling on scrap.
Sometimes he glanced at his phone, dialed a call, set it down, kept writing.
Sunset burned across his rigid back and stayed with him in silence.
A sound came from the back door. His pen paused. He turned.
Zhuang Fangqin stood there, her expression complicated. They looked at each other for a long while. Then she spoke. “Why aren’t you going home?”
“I’m waiting for Yu Fan,” Chen said.
She had been teaching all day and looked exhausted. There were traces of damp on her cheeks that had not fully dried.
Staring at the boy’s stubborn, cool face, she gripped the book in her hands and forced the words out.
“Go home. You don’t need to wait.”
“Yu Fan has already withdrawn from school.”
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