Tao Zhi forgave Shang Xuan.
He looked genuinely terrified, on the verge of tears. When he apologized, he sniffled with a quivering voice, his legs trembling nonstop.
Tao Zhi could somewhat understand that feeling.
He had been through it himself. The first time he met Fu Si Heng, his legs had shaken too. He had leaned against the dormitory wall, too scared to move, breaking out in cold sweat.
And he had been an adult at the time.
Shang Xuan wasn’t even an adult yet. Facing Fu Si Heng for the first time, it was normal to be that scared.
But it was strange. Back then, Tao Zhi had been frightened because he saw Fu Zheng get beaten so badly, fearing he might suffer the same fate. This time, Fu Si Heng hadn’t seemed to beat Shang Xuan that hard—not even close to what Fu Zheng had endured. So why was he so terrified?
After thinking it over, Tao Zhi chalked it up to Fu Si Heng’s overwhelming presence.
He had been scared by it himself; he knew. So he didn’t make things too hard for Shang Xuan.
“Alright, I get it. I accept your apology,” Tao Zhi said to him. “Go home and finish your homework first. Leave any questions you don’t understand blank, and I’ll help you when I get back.”
“N-No, there are no questions I don’t understand.” Shang Xuan had just started to relax when he heard Tao Zhi’s follow-up, instantly going on high alert. He quickly added, “I understand them all, I swear.”
“J-Just like that.” Not daring to say another word to Tao Zhi, Shang Xuan bowed sharply and hobbled away in a hurry.
Tao Zhi fell silent.
He watched Shang Xuan’s retreating figure—
Three seconds passed.
“Shall we go?” Fu Si Heng, feeling jealous, forcibly pulled his attention back. “Didn’t you say you were taking me for noodles?”
“Ah… yeah.” Tao Zhi snapped back to reality.
They happened to reach a crosswalk, waiting for the light.
Tao Zhi’s mind was still on Shang Xuan’s figure just now. He glanced sideways at Fu Si Heng and couldn’t help saying, “He was so scared of you.”
Even more than he had been at first.
His legs hadn’t straightened once.
Tao Zhi assumed it was psychological fear causing the shakes, like when he had trembled in the dorm watching Fu Si Heng beat Fu Zheng. It never crossed his mind that Shang Xuan’s trembling was physical.
He had genuinely been beaten until his legs gave out.
“I told you before, I have my ways with bratty kids,” Fu Si Heng said flatly, nothing to brag about.
Fu Zheng had been beaten by him since childhood.
Even Fu Zheng didn’t dare provoke him, let alone some little punk.
“Yeah.” Tao Zhi nodded vigorously in agreement, having witnessed it.
The light turned green, and they crossed.
As they walked, Tao Zhi couldn’t help replaying the scene in his head. He blurted out subconsciously, “I thought you looked a bit like Fu Zheng just now.”
Fu Si Heng glanced sideways at him.
In theory, he hated anyone linking him to Fu Zheng—especially hearing things like Fu Zheng looks like you, or you look like Fu Zheng.
But when Tao Zhi said it right to his face, Fu Si Heng felt no displeasure at all.
Tao Zhi kept going.
Recalling as he spoke, “It was that demeanor, those movements. I’ve seen Fu Zheng beat someone… that time in high school.”
Tao Zhi’s voice strategically dropped.
“You two even fight the same way.” His expression serious, Tao Zhi’s voice rose a bit. “You really are blood brothers.”
“If we weren’t blood brothers, I’d have kicked him out of the house long ago,” Fu Si Heng said. “Also, you’re wrong.”
“Huh?” Tao Zhi looked puzzled. “Where did I go wrong?”
Fu Si Heng let out a chuckle.
A very light one.
Tao Zhi was such a little fool.
He was the older one, so Fu Zheng should be the one who resembled him.
But Fu Si Heng didn’t say it outright. Instead, he asked, “Do you know what I was like in school?”
“No idea?” Tao Zhi answered honestly.
He was ten years younger than Fu Si Heng—how could he know what he was like back then?
When Fu Si Heng was in university, Tao Zhi was still in elementary school in town.
“Then imagine it,” Fu Si Heng said.
“Okay.” Tao Zhi was an obedient kid.
Since Fu Si Heng told him to imagine, he stopped walking and studied Fu Si Heng seriously for nearly a minute, gradually sketching out images in his mind.
He picked the one that fit best: “The silent, stoic sports cool guy type?”
Quiet and reserved, but steady and reliable—more mature than the current Fu Zheng, less childish. His personality probably wasn’t great either: cool and aloof.
Something like that.
Fu Si Heng was tall, with a sturdy build, broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs. He looked like the athletic type.
But on second thought, Fu Si Heng’s current physique came from nearly a decade of gym work since nearing thirty.
At university age, he would have been a bit greener.
Probably not quite like this.
Of course, he could also be the aloof academic type.
After all, as president of a big company, he needed brains—he probably didn’t skip classes every other day like Fu Zheng.
And…
“No.” Fu Si Heng interrupted Tao Zhi’s imaginings.
He gave a hint: “All the stuff Fu Zheng is into now? I was doing that and more when I was young.”
Street racing, fighting, smoking, extreme sports, ruling as campus king.
Silent and stoic? Not a chance.
Even more sharp-tongued and unapproachable than the current Fu Zheng, cocky enough that every rich kid in S City’s second-gen circle called him Heng-ge.
So Fu Zheng had learned from him.
Not the other way around.
The timeline mattered.
The little fool had gotten it wrong.
But not only had he gotten it wrong—he had misunderstood completely.
