Shang Xi walked beside him everywhere, sat with him in class—it was starting to grate on the boy’s nerves.
Shang Xi nibbled the end of his pen and said frankly, “Because you’re cool.”
The boy shot him a sidelong glance.
“Whoever steps out of line, just poison ’em dead.” Shang Xi mimed a slash across his throat.
Fu Congxiao: “…You do know how to spell ‘law,’ right?”
His phone buzzed twice—a message from Father Fu.
[Fu Zhengjun]: Come home this weekend. Your grandma wants to see you.
Fu Congxiao glanced at it and went back to his work.
[Fu Zhengjun]: Read the message? That rebellious streak flaring up again?
[Fu Zhengjun]: I, your father, raised you to give you face. Don’t go acting like you have a death wish.
[Endless Night]: 1
[Fu Zhengjun]: Cover up that disgusting thing on your face before you come back. Don’t let your grandma see it.
[Fu Zhengjun]: Show some manners. Call her Mom when it’s called for—she raised you for seventeen years at least. Who’re you trying to piss off calling her Auntie?
[Fu Zhengjun]: I introduced you to people with power and pull. You building any connections at school?
The phone kept buzzing relentlessly. Disgusted, Fu Congxiao simply powered it off.
Shang Xi chewed absently on his pen, then after a moment asked, “Family stuff?”
“Yeah, heading back to the city this weekend.” The boy smiled faintly. “You can make up your Survival Class next week. I’ll go with you.”
Shang Xi looked guilty. “I… I was just tagging along to see the sights with you. I can handle it myself.”
Fu Congxiao leaned in close, his voice trailing off with amusement.
“Yesterday you got bold in class, crawling all over the place, ticking people off, then ducking behind me, huh?”
Shang Xi kept a straight face. “I’ll buy you dinner. Forget it ever happened.”
“Fine. What’re you getting me?”
“Cherry cockroach noodle bowl,” the little breadbird recommended with utter sincerity. “Sweet and sour, and the broth is amazing.”
“Hey hey hey, don’t pinch my cheeks!! Spicy rabbit head then, alright?!!”
Come Friday, after his last class Fu Congxiao packed his things, said goodbye to Old Zhou, and climbed into the Bentley waiting at the school gates.
The driver greeted him out of habit, then did a double take, surprised.
The second young master wasn’t quite so alarmingly gaunt anymore.
Before, his sharp bones had made his features look harsh and severe.
Now he’d finally put on a bit of weight. His looks, his aura… he finally seemed like a seventeen-year-old boy.
The driver drove on in silence for a while before he finally couldn’t hold back. In a quiet voice, he reminded Fu Congxiao, “When you head home today, sir, try to stay gentle. Don’t upset Madam.”
“Business has been rough these past few years, and she’s been sick so often. Her temper’s even worse than before.”
“Is it her temper that’s the problem?” Fu Congxiao let out a cold laugh. “Fu Zhengjun’s been chasing after models and streamers left and right. No wonder things are falling apart.”
The driver sighed and fell silent.
The car pulled into the Fu Family Mansion in Xiaoshan District. A servant hurried over to open the gate.
Fu Congxiao walked inside step by step, instinctively holding his breath.
Fu Zhengjun spotted him right away. His gaze raked over the corners of Fu Congxiao’s eyes like it was barbed wire, his disgust plain as day.
Before Fu Congxiao could say a word, Zhang Hong swept out. She adjusted the Hermès silk scarf draped over her shoulders and cut right to the chase.
“Our relationship’s never been good, so spare me the act.”
“Your dad’s calling you back because Grandma dotes on you, her precious second grandson.” Zhang Hong scoffed, the sound laced with the bitterness of her own absurd life. “Your Fu Family’s a real piece of work. They ignore the outstanding eldest grandson and shower affection on a bastard child instead.”
Fu Zhengjun tried to soothe her. “The old lady’s getting senile. What can I do?”
“You can’t do anything?” Zhang Hong shot back. “You sure found ways when you were gambling your money away—mortgaging company shares and all, right?”
She whirled around, her eyes filled with nothing but irritation for Fu Congxiao.
“Got the message? Your dad’s in deep trouble and dragged you back to take the heat. I’ve delivered it. Now leave me out of it.”
With that, the woman stormed off like a gust of wind, leaving father and son standing awkwardly at the entrance.
Fu Zhengjun’s expression was far from natural.
“Don’t buy her nonsense. The company’s just got a cash flow snag. You need to help me put in a good word with the elders.”
Fu Congxiao replied flatly, “Fu Zhengjun, I stopped owing you anything a long time ago.”
Before the man could explode, Fu Congxiao’s face softened into a warm, serene smile—though his eyes remained utterly hollow.
“My mother died in childbirth because of you.”
“During her pregnancy, she wept endlessly, desperate to find you but with no means to support herself. She wasted away to skin and bones.”
“Grandpa told me I was born weighing only four pounds.”
“Every month, I force down my nausea and come back to this house just to spend proper time with Grandma and pay respects at Grandpa’s and Mom’s graves—burning paper offerings for them.”
Fu Zhengjun’s rage boiled over, and he opened his mouth to unleash a torrent of abuse. But then he heard Fu Congxiao murmur softly, “My mother was younger than nineteen when she died.”
“I kept the Fu name because someday I’ll claim your family fortune—and dump barrels of swill on your grave.”
“You’ll live to see that day.”
The middle-aged man erupted into a stream of filthy curses, but the young man pushed past him and went inside anyway.
It had happened back in his second year of junior high. He’d been reading in the living room, nodded off under a blanket, and accidentally undergone Transformation.
The first servant on the scene discovered the snake in the living room. She screamed for security to come kill it while the others kept their distance—everyone knew cobras were lethally venomous and bad luck just to look at.
OAC arrived promptly, but the property security blocked them. The young snake writhed in agony on the brink of death, and then its own father stomped down hard on its chest, nearly crushing the life out of it.
Fortunately, the police called the Fu Family first to give them a heads-up, then flashed their badges and cleared the way for OAC to handle the emergency rescue and relocation.
As they loaded him into the snake cage, Fu Congxiao heard the man bellowing viciously.
“What a jinx—a freak of a monster! Makes my skin crawl!”
“Born and killed his mother, now back to poison his old man!”
Some of the servants were sobbing in terror. “H-how can a person turn into a snake…? It has to be a mistake!”
“That’s a cobra—the deadliest kind! Must be that kid’s true nature, or why else would he turn into something like that?!”
“It’s all karma—heaven’s punishment. Retribution for his mother being the other woman!”
He spent a full week recuperating at OAC’s temporary shelter, his post-Transformation regenerative abilities slowly knitting his shattered bones back together. He barely pulled through.
The servant who’d witnessed the cobra quit on the spot that day, though she did sign a lifetime nondisclosure agreement.
Grandma had been out having tea with friends and was kept completely in the dark by the family. They told her her second grandson was just away on a trip.
Fu Zhengjun had wanted to cut ties right then, refusing to acknowledge he’d fathered such an abomination. But with the old lady still oblivious—and her soft spot for this neglected child—he held off on making it official.
When he learned there were special schools for freaks like this, Fu Zhengjun wasted no time handling the transfer paperwork. After that, he never once reached out.
Grandma still controlled a hefty block of shares and wielded real influence at the company, so the couple didn’t dare cross her. Come holidays, they’d dutifully bring the little disaster star home for their annual charade of family harmony.
Sometime after that, though, the household meals quietly shifted to individual servings.
Fu Congxiao knew full well that the utensils and cups he used underwent separate, repeated disinfection. They even had their own dedicated kitchen, ensuring they never came into contact with anything from the rest of the family.
The servants had cycled through several batches by now. They only knew the family was full of oddballs with bizarre, elaborate rules—no one dared pry.
Grandma was still in the backyard shrine, copying scriptures. Hearing the commotion, she wiped the gold ink from her brush and rose to greet him.
When Fu Congxiao saw her, he flashed a smile first, then swallowed back his tears. “It’s been too long. How have you been?”
“Little Xiao’s home—and you’ve put on some weight?” The old lady’s face lit up with delight as she kept stroking his hair. “You finally have a bit of color in your cheeks. Why are you still so cold to the touch?”
“Grandma knows some excellent traditional Chinese medicine doctors. Let them take a good look at you and build you up properly, all right?”
Fu Congxiao shook his head with a smile, insisting he was just in a growth spurt and perfectly healthy.
He opened his laptop and showed her his latest award, along with his class ranking from the monthly exams.
Grandma fetched her reading glasses and examined each one carefully. Still, she couldn’t stop petting his head, instructing the servants to bring the bird’s nest porridge she’d simmered herself.
“These things matter, but they’re not the most important,” she said, clasping his hand and murmuring on. “Good grades are just the cherry on top. What really counts is that you’re safe and healthy, that you make some friends, and that you’re happy every single day.”
Fu Congxiao promised her everything, drinking down the bird’s nest first before sitting with her to copy scriptures and meditate.
By dinnertime, the whole family had gathered. Everyone wore plastered-on smiles and traded forced jokes.
Fu Mingyao sat well away from his younger brother, occasionally mentioning some trifling company business in his usual refined, meticulous way.
The boy barely touched his food, his smile strained at the edges.
Every time he saw Grandma, he wanted to spill the truth.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He repeated it endlessly in his mind.
Grandma, I’ve never been the person you think I am.
I’m sorry. I’ve been lying to you, too.
His bedroom was as spacious and comfortable as ever, carrying that same faint scent of dust.
Once the gathering broke up, he lay alone on the vast bed, the only sound in the world his own breathing.
His phone buzzed twice.
[Xi]: Home sweet home?
The boy stared at the screen for a long moment before typing.
[Endless Night]: Got ripped into pretty bad
[Xi]: ?
[Endless Night]: Not exactly popular around here
[Xi]: Where you at? I’ll come hang.
Fu Congxiao sent his location, though he didn’t hold out much hope.
Xiaoshan District was too far from school—even by car, it took him over an hour.
He scrolled through the school forum for a bit before drifting off without realizing it.
His dreams were always a chaotic jumble.
Lies, shouts, rage, stabs of pain from indistinct shapes—all tangled together, leaving him shivering with cold.
Halfway through his sleep, he felt a warmth in his palm. His heart refused to trust it at first; he hesitated before cracking his eyes open.
In the moonlight, Little Nightingale perched in his hand, cocking its head and chirping once.
