Chapter 66: Zhou Zhuoyuan: They’re Coming for Me, It’s Not That I’m the Victim…

Several people were temporarily detained. Zhu Wan and Zhou Fuxuan arrived to pick Zhou Zhuoyuan up and take him home.

Zhu Wan touched his right hand, wrapped in bandages, with a look of heartache. “Does it still hurt?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan stared at the back of the seat in front of him. Contrary to Zhu Wan’s fears, he didn’t demand to return to school or rush to the hospital to look after his friends. Instead, he blurted out of nowhere, “They were coming for you guys?”

Zhou Fuxuan pressed a hand to his temple. “We’re looking into it, but we don’t have any leads yet. Stay home tomorrow and study on your own.”

The Zhou family had plenty of rivals, but no one could imagine who would stoop to something this sloppy. Zhou Zhuoyuan’s classmates were right next door. Even without Pei He, he could have called for help in time. If the police hadn’t struggled with that door, they wouldn’t have suffered at all.

Zhou Zhuoyuan asked, “What about my friends?”

Zhou Fuxuan replied, “Don’t worry. Just take care of yourself.”

After a moment of silence, he added, “Have Doctor Song take another look when we get home. In the future, don’t think it’s too much trouble—bring your bodyguards whenever you go out. Whether this has to do with the Zhou family or not, there won’t be a next time. Don’t be scared. Mom and Dad are right here.”

The words went in one ear and out the other for Zhou Zhuoyuan.

He closed his eyes wearily. Those men hadn’t hit them hard. The doctor had said Pei He’s injuries were only skin-deep. If they were people he’d provoked, they wouldn’t have held back like that. So he figured their real goal had been to kidnap him and hold him hostage.

Zhou Zhuoyi lit up with joy when he saw Zhou Zhuoyuan return home, but his heart leaped into his throat the next instant upon spotting the bandages wrapped around his hand.

He trailed after Zhou Zhuoyuan. “Bro, what happened to your hand?”

Zhu Wan pulled Zhou Zhuoyi aside. “Be good. Your brother took a tumble earlier and he’s not in the best mood right now. Listen to me and head to bed.”

Zhou Zhuoyi bit his lip, eyed Zhou Zhuoyuan’s retreating back, and nodded reluctantly.

By the time Zhou Zhuoli returned from his business dinner, Doctor Song was re-cleaning Zhou Zhuoyuan’s wound. He stood nearby watching, his brows knitting tighter and tighter.

Zhou Zhuoyuan had no attention to spare for his thoughts. His lashes drooped low as Doctor Song’s gentle touch eased his churning emotions somewhat.

Zhou Zhuoli spoke up abruptly. “Doctor, I’ve been meaning to ask—was his hand injured before this?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan fought the impulse to yank his hand away. “What’s it to you?” he said coldly.

Zhou Zhuoli sat down beside him, bearing down on the suddenly rigid Zhou Zhuoyuan. “So it was injured before? When?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan clenched his teeth. From eighteen to twenty-three, his face didn’t show much difference, but if Zhou Zhuoli grew suspicious, there was no explaining away how his body had aged overnight.

Doctor Song finished bandaging the wound, gave his forearm a couple of pats, then stood and told Zhou Zhuoli, “He doesn’t want to talk about it, so don’t push.”

Zhou Zhuoli loosened his tie. He sometimes carried his work authority home with him—authority that Zhou Zhuoyi’s softness could melt away, but which sparked clashes with Zhou Zhuoyuan.

Once the doctor had gone, Zhou Zhuoli sighed at Zhou Zhuoyuan, who had shot up from the sofa. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with you. I get why you’re on guard around me. If you don’t want to say, then don’t—especially after everything I… But I’m your brother, after all. Why didn’t you call me when this happened? I was free at noon…”

Zhou Zhuoyuan cut him off. “I’m going to bed.”

He strode out of the living room without a backward glance, ignoring the awkward expression on Zhou Zhuoli’s face.

Truth be told, he held no deep grudge against Zhou Zhuoli. They hadn’t even seen each other in over a decade, let alone grown up together—and even then, Zhou Zhuoli would have had every right not to like his little brother. Zhou Zhuoyuan didn’t hate him. In fact, after learning the novel’s ending, he even felt a twinge of sympathy and regret toward him.

But accepting him as a brother and mending fences? That was out of the question.

The moment the Zhou family learned he had once caused Zhou Zhuoyi’s death, all their guilt, pity, and that sliver of affection—however faint—would twist into loathing for Zhou Zhuoyuan. He lacked the courage to weather another torrent of familial curses.

Not as a brother—just as Zhou Zhuoli himself—and no matter how much he cursed or scorned him, Zhou Zhuoyuan could take it. Just as he had in his previous life.

~~~

The next day, the police called. The men were drug addicts with varying lengths of involvement in narcotics. They had been in the middle of a drug deal with the KTV owner when they noticed the pricey clothes on Zhou Zhuoyuan and Pei He, which sparked crooked ideas. There was a hidden room beneath the private room’s bathroom—a spot the owner often used for transactions. They had planned to kidnap the pair and slip out through another exit from the secret room, but Zhou Zhuoyuan and Pei He stalled them too long. The police caught them red-handed.

The KTV owner had powerful backers, but this time, with the Zhou family’s involvement, he was finally investigated and brought to justice. The police had come primarily to express their gratitude.

After hearing Zhou Fuxuan’s recounting, Zhou Zhuoyuan fixed him with a piercing stare. “You’re saying they weren’t acting on anyone’s orders? It was just a spur-of-the-moment decision?”

Zhou Fuxuan glanced at the pen clutched in his hand, his head throbbing with pain. “They might have been acting on the boss’s instructions. Neither he nor his backers will get away with this. Mom and Dad will handle everything. You should rest at home for a couple of days and not worry about it.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan let out a scoff. “Those people don’t seem to have any connection to the Zhou family, do they? So what, they really just wanted to kidnap me to squeeze a ransom out of you?”

A flicker of anger rose in Zhou Fuxuan’s chest. “What are you implying? That I’ve uncovered who’s behind this but deliberately keeping it from you?”

The more frightened Zhou Zhuoyuan felt, the colder his expression became. “I told you yesterday—they were clearly targeting me. The drink they spiked was my favorite, and the music was the kind I always listen to. If you and Zhu Wan think I’m just having paranoid delusions, then say so. I’ll investigate it myself. If we can’t afford to offend the real culprits, I can handle it on my own. But what is this? My friend is in the hospital because of me, and now you’re telling me it was all just some random junkies?!”

“Zhou Zhuoyuan!”

Zhou Fuxuan’s palm slammed down hard on the desk, sending the calendar trembling and toppling over.

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s pupils contracted, and his grip on the pen tightened.

Realizing he’d startled him, Zhou Fuxuan felt a twinge of regret, but his face remained stern. “How can you think of us that way? Do you really believe your parents would harm you?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan stared at his hand, and the scar that had healed five years ago suddenly began to ache.

He finally couldn’t hold back any longer. He pushed back from the chair, putting distance between himself and Zhou Fuxuan. “Do whatever you want.”

Zhu Wan pushed the door open and saw the tense standoff between father and son. She hurried to Zhou Zhuoyuan’s side, reaching out to check his injuries.

Zhou Zhuoyuan brushed her hand away. Under her hurt gaze, he said, “Since they weren’t after you, I’ll pack my things and head back to school. My friend still needs me to look after him.”

~~~

Zhou Zhuoyuan insisted on returning to school, so Zhu Wan and Zhou Fuxuan had no choice but to drive him there. No one spoke during the ride. Inside the bag Zhou Zhuoyuan clutched was the calendar from his desk. He’d been worried that seeing it too often would remind him of the beatings from his past life, so he hadn’t brought it with him before. Now, he wanted it with him.

If he himself couldn’t have a good ending, at least he could give this calendar one.

It was a small comfort to his past-life self.

The scenery outside the window blurred past at high speed, making Zhou Zhuoyuan a little dizzy. He rested his forehead against the back of the front seat.

Occasionally, Zhou Zhuoyuan hated himself for this. No matter how firm his resolve or how harsh his words, he always found himself harboring a sliver of hope.

Like just now, when he’d lost his temper—it was because Zhu Wan and Zhou Fuxuan hadn’t lived up to his expectations. They hadn’t gone all out against the masterminds behind this the way they had when they’d clashed with the Zheng family over Zhou Zhuoyi.

They’d only investigated for a single day before coming back to tell him it was handled, then casually rounding up a few low-level drug dealers.

If it had been Zhou Zhuoyi, they probably wouldn’t have even bothered telling him when those dealers ended up dead.

Zhou Zhuoyuan hated this version of himself that kept comparing everything to Zhou Zhuoyi.

He hated the Zhou family even more for repeatedly building up his hopes after his rebirth, only to snatch them away again.

Fortunately, Zhou Zhuoyuan had strong willpower. He suppressed the urge to shout at Zhou Fuxuan, “If it were Zhou Zhuoyi, would you really handle it this lightly?” If he actually yelled that out, it would be too humiliating.

~~~

The injured Pei He had skipped classes and was recuperating in the dorm, sprawled out on the bed. His own bed was on the top bunk, which wasn’t convenient with his injuries, so with Zhou Zhuoyuan’s special permission, he’d taken over Zhou Zhuoyuan’s bed.

Blushing, Pei He took a deep breath. The faint scent wasn’t strong, but it made his head spin as if he were about to ascend to immortality.

He sent Zhou Zhuoyuan a message: If I become an immortal, I’ll definitely promote you.

Zhou Zhuoyuan: ?

For once, Zhou Zhuoyuan replied gently: Are you having a headache? I’m almost back at the dorm. I’ll carry you to the hospital in a bit—hang in there.

Pei He was tempted to flirt back, but he worried it would make him seem heartless and frivolous so soon after He Qinglan’s “death.” Instead, he replied seriously: No, I was just joking with you.

Zhou Zhuoyuan didn’t buy it. When he got back, he meticulously examined Pei He’s head, and only after finding no injuries did he finally relax. “Good.”

Good that he hadn’t damaged the Gaokao Top Scorer’s brain—otherwise, his guilt would have been enormous.

Though the guilt he already carried wasn’t exactly light.

As evening drew near, Zhou Zhuoyuan tidied up his things while asking Pei He, “What do you want for dinner? I’ll go pick it up for you later.”

Pei He’s gaze tracked Zhou Zhuoyuan’s every move. Ten minutes later, he climbed out of bed and seized Zhou Zhuoyuan’s arm as he paced back and forth across the dorm room. “Far God, this is school. Why are you panicking?”

Startled by Pei He’s sudden descent from the bed, Zhou Zhuoyuan unleashed a torrent of scolding. “What are you doing getting down?! What if it gets worse?! And where do you see me panicking?! Don’t call me Far God anymore!”

He froze, not daring to move. Beneath Pei He’s steady gaze, he slowly ceased his pointless fidgeting.

The balcony door stood ajar, curtains billowing softly in the breeze. The sunset’s orange glow spilled inside, warm and yielding as the wind itself.

Buffeted by the spring breeze—so uniquely tender in its season—Zhou Zhuoyuan gradually regained his composure, his fingers curling inward. “They’re after me. It’s not some victim complex.”

Pei He replied, “I know.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan clenched his teeth and forced the words out. “It’s my fault you got dragged into this.”

Pei He met his eyes and refuted him with a gentle smile. “No. I’m the one protecting you.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s mind flashed to yesterday’s scene: Pei He pulling him into a protective embrace. His heart gave a heavy thud.